My Knight in Shining Armor
by xiao chan
Summary: [FINISHED] AU: When Mia finds out she's a princess, she's introduced to her new bodyguard. What happens when sparks fly between the two of them? MM
1. Tofu and Veggie Burgers

**A/N- I love the Princess Diaries books and I decided I'd try my hand at a fanfiction for it. So please, constructive criticism only.**

**Chapter 1 **

**Mia's POV**

"Wait a moment," I said in total disbelief. "What? Just run that whole thing by me again."

"Don't be so vulgar, Amelia," Grandmére sniffed. "You're a princess, so act like one."

"See, uh that's the thing I don't quite understand. I'm a _princess_?"

My dad gave a huge sigh and rubbed between his eyes. This ticked me off. How dare he act tired when you tell me I'm a freaking PRINCESS! "Mia, look. I know this is a lot for you to take in right now, but—"

"A LOT FOR ME TO TAKE IN!" I shrieked. I finally lost it. I'm only FOURTEEN and the spring the whole, "Hey, your family's royalty, let's celebrate!" bit on my and expect me to be fine with it. Well, I'm sorry, but that's not happening any time soon. "YOU'RE TELLING ME I'M A PRINCESS AFTER FOURTEEN YEARS!"

"Mia, listen—"

"No, you listen. In all my fourteen years, you couldn't find the time to say, 'oh, by the way, you're a princess'?"

"Mia, I'm not trying to—"

"You know, I figured that since you're my father I'd be the first to know that you're the Crown Prince of Genovia," I bit sarcastically. "I dunno though, that sounds pretty normal to me."

"AMELIA!" Grandmére yelled in her dangerous voice. "Shut up and listen for once. Perhaps your father has something useful to say, hmm?"

"Mia," my father frowned. "It's a lot to accept, I know. I'm not rushing you to accept it, but you need to know. Since you are a European royal, you will have a bodyguard."

"A BODYGUARD!" I screeched. "As in, a guard for my body?"

"If you want to take it in that context," Dad frowned. "He'll go everywhere you go."

"He has to follow me? EVERYWHERE!"

Talk about a party kill.

"You can't expect us to let you walk around Manhattan alone," He continued. "He starts tomorrow. He'll be with the limo to pick you up tomorrow."

"Hold up. He's following me around SCHOOL?"

"You never know, Mia. We don't want to take any chances."

Great. As if I wasn't enough of a freak. NO ONE at my school has a bodyguard, except Tina. But Wahim isn't that bad.

I'd just never wanna get stuck in a room with him by myself.

* * *

**Michael's POV**

I adjusted my shoulder holster, making sure my gun was secure. I had strapped daggers around my ankles and wrists and Swiss Army pocket knife tucked safely away in my black pants pocket.

For my first day on the job, I tried to be inconspicuous; black sweater and pants with a khaki colored trench coat.

I smiled when I remembered the interview from the Genovian Royal family. After I had passed a rigorous character test, they asked me about my background and personality.

Clarisse eyeballed me up and down and asked cheekily, "Now why isn't a handsome boy like you married?"

Ah, the eternal question asks again.

"You're highness, with all of my survival training, I've never really had the time for a committed relationship."

I like to think they hired me for my commitment.

* * *

**Mia's POV**

"Mia, your limo's here!" My mother called.

God those words are so weird to hear.

I slipped on my school shoes and grabbed my backpack. I knew I looked like hell, but at that point, I didn't really care.

"See you later, Mom!"

"Bye, sweetie. Have a good day!"

I walked down the flight of stairs, walked out to the curb, then stopped dead in my tracks as a pair of peat bog eyes stared me straight in the face.

Wow.

"Princess Amelia," My new bodyguard said in a deep, mellifluous voice. "My name is Michael. I'm your bodyguard." He held his hand out.

"Oh, y-you can j-just call me Mia," I squeaked as I shook his hand. He had a wonderful, strong hand.

He smiled and my knees turned to jelly. "Well…Mia, it's time to go to school." He held open the door and gestured to it. "Ladies first."

I felt my face blush a deep crimson as I slid into the supple leather seats.

* * *

**Michael's POV**

Wow.

I knew that princesses were supposed to be pretty, but this…

And the best part is, she doesn't even know she's pretty.

In my personal experience, women fall into four groups: the ugly ones who know they're ugly, the ugly ones who think they're pretty, the pretty ones who know they're pretty and the pretty ones who think they're ugly.

Deep, huh? I should write a book.

I had been told Mia's circumstances, but I didn't know she'd be so uncomfortable with this whole thing. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

When we reached the school, I got out first and opened the door for her. You could tell she was kind of taken aback. Apparently no one's ever done this for her before.

As we got out, a young girl was staring at me with wide eyes. A huge, hulking brown guy was standing behind her.

**

* * *

Mia's POV**

"Hey. Uh, Tina, this is Michael, my…bodyguard. Michael, this is Tina and her bodyguard, Wahim."

He shook their hands and he and Wahim fell into quickly fell into easy conversation. Tina took me aside and whispered, "Oh my god, Mia, he's so hot!"

"I know!" I replied.

"You're so lucky," She sighed. "I'd die if I had a bodyguard that gorgeous."

We walked into the school and I waved goodbye to Tina and got to my locker.

Unfortunately, I couldn't open it.

I heaved a heavy sigh and cleared my throat. "Uh, excuse me," I said softly.

Of course, Lana and Josh couldn't hear me. They were too busy swapping saliva to listen to a loser like me.

Michael cleared his throat loudly and said, "Excuse me,"

Lana and Josh, startled, pulled apart and glared at me.

I turned bright red and said, "Uh, you're in front of my locker."

They moved, but not without a disgusted, "Ugh…freak," from Lana.

After they walked away, Michael turned to me and asked, "Who are they?"

"Lana and Josh," I replied as I rolled my eyes. "Our school's 'it' couple."

"I take it you don't like them?"

"Well Josh is just about the most beautiful, unattainable guy in this school, so I hate myself more than I hate him."

He frowned and said, "Why should you hate yourself?"

I laughed a humorless laugh and replied, "Because he's going out with Lana, and she's everything I'm not. She's gorgeous, petite, she's a got a great chest—" I realized what I was saying and blushed. "I'm not a lesbian or bi or anything, if that's what you're thinking."

He just gave me a movie star white smile and said, "I never really doubted, but thanks for the information."

I gave him a wobbly smile, but inside I cringed. I incriminated my self for no reason and just came off looking like a total idiot.

* * *

**Michael's POV**

She's cute.

She's also a little passive too. And not to mention, she's got some major self-esteem issues.

And she's supposed to rule a country. A small European principality.

But that still doesn't stop her from being adorable.

So she grabbed her books and walked to her first class: Algebra. That same girl that snubbed her earlier was sitting in the front row; right in front of her.

The faculty had been informed of my employment, so the teacher, Mr. Gianini, asked me to remain in the desk in the corner.

The girl from earlier, Lana watched me carefully. I was only too used to these stares from girls all the time; especially from her confident types who think they'll be able to hook me by putting out.

I saw her turn around to talk to Mia. She seemed to have said something insulting cuz Mia blushed and Lana smirked before turning back around.

I felt the strange need to comfort her, or come to her aid. After all, that's what a good bodyguard does, right?

Wait. Why did I feel like this around her? It wasn't just because it was my job. There was some other reason.

Well, whatever that reason was, I still wanted to be her knight in shining armor.

Maybe because she's never had one.

* * *

**Mia's POV**

Where's Michael when I need him?

Lana was being a total bitch to me. Again.

"Hey, freak, who the hell is that? I don't understand how a guy as hot as that could possibly be following you." And she turned back around with a smirk.

Then something brilliant came over me and I replied, "There are a lot of things you don't understand, Lana. Don't strain your brain trying to figure this out."

I smiled to myself as I heard her growl.

Maybe I don't need Michael to stand up for me. Maybe I could do it by myself.

Whoa, there.

Slow down there, Thermopolis. I'm not Wonder Woman yet.

I just shouldn't lean on other people so much.

Now, Michael, on the other hand, I could lean on his shoulder all day.

Michael's POV

Mia is a strange girl.

Among the other quirky things I learned about her today, she's also horrible at Algebra, she's really quirky, and she's a vegetarian.

The people in Genovia have probably never seen a princess like that.

Maybe her regime will be remembered by the extreme consumption of tofu and gourmet veggie burgers.

And bad budget handling.

But then again, she's kind and compassionate person. Her people would love her in an instant.

How do I know this?

I consider myself a pretty patient person, but her best friend, Tina, reminds me strongly of the really gay guy from _Will & Grace_. In other words, he's really, really annoying.

Mia seemed to be able to put up with her though, but with frequent eye-rolling.

She told her about the whole princess deal, and let's just say I'll probably never be able to hear again.

"So what's with the sudden employment of your bodyguard?"

Mia paused for a moment, leaned forward and whispered, "Can you keep a secret?"

She nodded her head vigorously, practically bouncing with anticipation. I had doubts on whether this girl could keep her mouth shut, but all I could do was trust Mia's instincts.

"I'm Genovian Royalty."

Tina paused for a moment, then let out this hideous screech. "Oh my god Mia, ARE YOU KIDDING ME!"

Mia kept trying to shush her, but it was no use.

"HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY NOT TELL ME SOONER!"

"I didn't know till last night. And my family wants me to keep this hush-hush, so—"

"Mia, that is not cool. You _have_ to tell everyone! They'd be _so_ jealous!"

"Tina, I don't WANT anyone to know! It's a nightmare come true, I can't run a country! I can barely run a mile!"

So it's not about the social aggravation. It's about the pressure. Well at least she's got her priorities straight.

"But you could totally get back at Lana for everything she's ever done to you! It would be so cool! And plus, you get the best of everything, like dresses and technology and stuff!"

"Tina, I don't _want_ any of that! I don't _want_ to be in the public eye, I just want to remain invisible for the rest of my pathetic existence."

Wow. She's got really, really bad self-esteem issues.

"Mia, you don't _have_ to be invisible. In fact, now you _can't_ be invisible. You're going to run a country."

"That's the thing, I don't want to! So please, let's just drop this."

Like a good best friend, she respected her wishes and changed the subject.

She underestimates herself way too much. She's better than what she thinks.

**A/N- So did you like it? Hmm? If you did, tell me, okay? Cuz otherwise I just don't see any point in continuing this story.**


	2. Oedipus and Freud

**A/N- Thanks for all the reviews. Keep 'em coming! Anyway, a lot of you asked me how old Michael is in this fic, and it says in this chapter. I hope the explanation makes sense.**

**Chapter 2 **

**Mia's POV**

I was sitting in the limo with Michael on the way to the Plaza. Grandmére got it into her head that I need lessons to be a princess. I mean, come on it's not like I'm going to insult the Prime Minister of Japan to his face. Credit me with a little more common sense than that.

But anyway, I was sitting in the limo, and I was a little curious. "Hey, Michael?"

He turned to me and smiled. "Yes, princess?"

Ignoring the title, I continued. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

Whoa. "That's…really young."

He laughed and said, "I know. My entire family is in the bodyguard business. My grandfather was head of the secret service in the Eisenhower administration, My father and his brothers are the bodyguards for the British royal family, my mother is head of security of the French government, and I have a distant cousin who's a bodyguard for Britney Spears."

"Are you serious?" I asked in awe.

He nodded. "My parents trained me ever since I could walk, then they sent me to military school when I was five. By ten, they figured out that I was pretty special. They made me out to be some sort of kick ass prodigy. Then they started training me and after eight years of survival training, technique lessons, computer programming classes, and emergency simulations, I joined the family business."

"So you never finished school?"

"I did. I just had private tutoring. My parents had made a bundle off of their jobs, and besides, I was a fast learner."

I paused to take all this in. I'd love to see him kick ass. He must be really sexy when he does. "Did you always want to be a bodyguard?"

Michael looked serious for a moment and said, "Well, I actually always wanted to be a musician. I still play the guitar, but my father said that it was impractical. It was very unlikely that I'd ever get famous, and I should have a safe career."

I smiled at him. So his career dreams were smashed by his family too. "I bet you're a great guitar player."

"Thanks."

**

* * *

Michael's POV**

I told Mia my story. My life's been pretty boring up till this point though, I don't see how she could find it interesting. But she did.

"What about you? What do you wanna be when you grow up? Er…well, what _did_ you want to be?"

She blushed and said, "Well, to tell you the truth, I don't know. I've never had any talents to hone, so I've never had an idea of what I've wanted to do with my life."

"Oh, I don't believe that. You're probably more talented than you think."

"Ha, no."

And she just sort of left it at that.

We got to the Plaza and we were greeted by the concierge when we walked in. I quickly escorted Mia to the elevator, without any questions. As part of my contract, I was told not to reveal her royal status until she came out to the press. This meeting with the dowager princess was to discuss that occasion.

When we got to Clarisse's suite, Mia kissed her father on the cheek and sat on the plush couch. I stood by the door, like a bouncer.

"Amelia," Clarisse addressed her as she walked in. "I trust you arrived here in good health?"

"I didn't get molested or kidnapped if that's what you mean."

I smiled. She's funny too.

Clarisse, however, was not amused. "See, this is _why_ you need princess lessons! You're so vulgar, so common! We cannot possibly present you to the Genovian public in your present condition! We need to refine you, we need to culture you."

I shook my head but said nothing. She's not a pearl. She's a person with thoughts and feelings and opinions. And besides, she's got more common sense than most other teenagers. She's not gonna say the molesting and kidnapping thing to the Prime Minister of Japan if he ever happens to ask the same question.

Mia just sat there, listening patiently. "Okay, Grandmére. Get on with the culturing then."

"Humph," Clarisse grunted. "First though, we must talk about your coming out to the press."

"I figured we could just have a little debutante ball thingy, like on Gilmore Girls, and I invite everyone. Or I could have a quinceñera, like the Spanish. Or a bat mitzvah, like the Jewish."

"First of all, you are neither Spanish nor Jewish. Second of all, debutante balls are for the lesser of society, trying to become part of long established inner circles. No, we're going to introduce you to the press and the public in our own little Genovian ball."

"When exactly are you planning for this 'little Genovian ball' to happen?"

"Three weeks from now."

Mia gulped audibly as her face turned a pasty white.

So Clarisse began teaching her about etiquette. I thought I was a fast learner, but I got really confused and lost in all the different types of forks.

My heart went out to Mia. I could tell she would rather be anywhere else than there. But nevertheless, she regurgitated everything Clarisse had taught her right back.

When it was finally over, Mia was informed that she was to come back there again for more princess lessons.

"WHAT!" She exploded. "I thought it was just for today!"

Prince Philippe took her aside and said, "Please, Mia, I'm begging you. I need to get her out of my hair for a little while."

"No way. What makes you think I can handle her when you can't?"

"I'll pay you. A hundred dollars a day. Just to get away from her. Please? I'm being driven out of my mind."

"She's _your_ mother. You're supposed to have a closer relationship with her. You know, Oedipus, Freud and all that."

I stifled a laugh.

"Look, Mia, it'll just be for three weeks, until this ball thingy. I promise."

She heaved a heavy sigh. "Fine. But instead of giving those hundred dollars to me, I want you to donate it to Greenpeace."

Figures. Vegetarian, environmentalist, humanitarian…she's really generous. Most teenagers would just keep the money. But I guess it's not like she really needs the money, considering she's worth like…three hundred million dollars.

**

* * *

Mia's POV**

Ugh. I'm so gonna kill dad.

I'm supposed to put up with Grandmére and her damn princess lessons for the next three weeks.

Great.

At least Greenpeace will benefit from my distress. So seven days a week, times three…that's twenty-one days, times one hundred, so that's two thousand one hundred dollars. That's got to save like, what, twenty whales at least.

You know, the only perk to this whole princess thing is Michael. He's such a nice guy, and he's really sweet. On the way home from the Plaza, I wanted to stop for ice cream, and we did. He even paid for mine. How nice is that? Seriously.

And he's so not unapproachable. I figured that he was older than eighteen, like twenty-five or something, and I wouldn't have anything in common with him. But I found out that he's got a little sister my age living in London, and he's got this embarrassing Star Wars obsession. I mean, _I_ don't think that it's embarrassing, especially considering I'm a Star Wars fan myself, so I told him so, and we got into this argument over who's cooler: Princess Leia or Queen Amidala. Considering I have Amidala print underwear, I argued the latter.

It was eight when I finally got home. I figured mom would be there, but I found a note taped to the door.

_Hey Mia,_

_Sorry sweetie, I couldn't tell you in person, but I'm going on a date. I taped some money to the fridge, and the takeout numbers are in the drawer. Make sure that your bodyguard stays with you tonight, I don't want you to be alone. And be sure you finish your homework too._

_Love you,_

Mom 

Huh. I wonder who the guy is?

"Sorry, Michael. I have to make you stay with me tonight."

"Oh, no problem. I was gonna offer to stay anyway."

My heart fluttered at the thought. "Well, um. Let's go in." I knew I was as red as a tomato, and I was grateful for a chance to look away from such godly perfection.

I opened the door to the loft and he walked in. "I know it's not much—" I began.

"Wow!" He exclaimed as he looked at all the eccentric paintings on the walls. "Where did you get those?"

"Oh, mom's an artist."

"She's really good!"

"I know. She's got a few shows downtown. My father even bought some of her paintings. Lately though, she's been donating a lot of them to school. They even offered her a teaching position, but she turned them down. She said that art is not taught, it is simply done."

"What about technique and all that?"

"She says that technique is developed through time and maturation of the artist."

"That's deep."

"She's just got a lot of time on her hands." I walked into the kitchen and pulled out the sheet of numbers. "What do you wanna eat for dinner? Chinese, Italian, or…Greek?"

"Uh, Chinese's good."

I dialed the number for Number One Noodle Son and got some sesame noodles and the vegetarian platter for myself. Michael wanted orange chicken and broccoli and beef.

Great. Another carnivore. Maybe I could convince him to stop killing animals for the benefit of his stomach.

While waiting for the food, I pulled out my books and started working on my Algebra. Michael peeked over my shoulder and asked, "Whatcha doing?"

I smiled at him and said, "My Algebra homework, which I totally don't get."

"Well I'm pretty good with Algebra. Want some help?"

I breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Please, I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing." I spread out all of my work and notes and my book across the coffee table.

He helped me out until the delivery guy buzzed. I brought the food in and we sat on the couch and ate while talking about everything from Britney Spears and her marriage with Kevin Fetterline to J. Lo and Mark Anthony.

I never knew that I could find a person that I related to so well other than Tina. And then again, she gets screechy and hard to understand sometimes. Michael's just so…cool. And laid back.

At ten o'clock I gave a huge yawn and announced, "I think I'm gonna go to sleep now. Thanks for the help, you were great."

"Thanks for the food." He replied.

"Uh, if you wanna go to sleep too, you can have the guest room. It's kinda bare right now, but I could put some sheets and pillows on the bed."

"Oh, no that's okay. I'm gonna stay on the couch. I can hear intruders better when I'm closer to the door."

I smiled and said, "Good night." And went upstairs to do my usual before bed ritual.

Before falling asleep, I imagined Michael taking me up in his strong, muscle-y arms and kissing me passionately on the lips.

Hey, a girl can dream, can't she?

**

* * *

Michael's POV**

She's an awesome girl.

She really is. And she's a Star Wars fan like me, so we've got lots to talk about. And she's really well rounded. Like, she could talk to some random guy on the street and start up a conversation. She knows a lot.

I pulled one of those funky yellow and blue knit things that was on the easy chair next to me over my body and fell asleep.

Two hours later, I was awoken by her mother, Helen Thermopolis. I sat up groggily and gave her a sleepy smile. "You must be Helen Thermopolis. My name is Michael Moscovitz. I'm your d-daughter's b-bodyguard." I said while trying, and failing, to stifle a huge yawn.

"Hi, Michael," She said with smile somewhat reminiscent of her daughter's. "Where's Mia?"

"Oh, she went to sleep two hours ago."

"Did she eat? Did you eat?"

"Yes, ma'am we both did."

"She finished her homework?"

"I helped her with her algebra."

She gave me another smile and said, "Thank you." She patted my knee and said, "I'll call Philippe and ask him to bring the limo over to bring you back to the Plaza."

"Oh, if you don't mind Ms. Thermopolis, I'd like to stay here for the night. You know, just to make sure that no one tries to take her in the night."

She raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm perfectly sure."

"Well, at least sleep in the guest room. It's kinda bare right now, but I could put some sheets and pillows on the bed."

I smiled, recalling that Mia had said the exact same thing before she went to bed. "No, I'm fine, really. I'd like to stay closer to the door, just in case an intruder comes."

She smiled and said, "You know, it's nice to have a guy on the couch to take care of this kind of stuff." She patted me on the shoulder and said, "Thanks. Good night."

I smiled back, nodded, yawned and lay back down. She turned the light off in the living room and walked up the stairs.

I woke up the next morning to sizzling sounds coming from the kitchen. I saw Ms. Thermopolis in a nice satin bathrobe with embroidered flowers on it. "Morning, Michael!" she said cheerfully. "How do you like your eggs, scrambled or sunny side up?"

"Uh, scrambled, thanks." I rubbed my eyes and said, "Do you need any help, Ms. Thermopolis?"

As I set the table, Mia came downstairs in her school uniform, rubbing the sleep out of her beautiful silver eyes. She was already fully dressed in her plaid school uniform and navy blue blazer with AEHS embroidered in gold on the breast pocket.

"Morning, Princess," I greeted her.

She gave me a strange look and grunted, "I thought I told you to call me Mia."

I smiled apologetically. "Sorry…Mia."

Ms. Thermopolis put a stack of pancakes on the table and poured me some coffee. "Thank you. I'm gonna go downstairs and see if Hans is there."

I took my coffee and walked out of the loft, with Mia's innocent, soft, and sleepy figure still fresh in my mind.

**

* * *

Mia's POV**

After Michael left the loft, my mom turned to me and said with a huge smile, "He's cute."

"Mom!" I yelled. I turned bright red, mainly because I don't want my _mother_ of all people realizing how truly gorgeous Michael is. "He's like, a guhzillion years old," I lied.

I finished my breakfast then asked while putting my homework in my backpack, "Who was your date?"

She paused for a long time before deciding to answer my question. "Mr. Gianini," She replied without looking me in the eye.

Pause. Then, "WHAT!"

Mom gave me her pleading puppy dog eyes. "Mia, I know it's way awkward for you, but Frank is a _really_ nice guy. He opened the door, pulled out my chair, he even laughed at my Michael Jackson joke!"

Which is a pretty big deal. Because anyone who hears that joke leaves my mother's presence with a twitch.

I mean, it's nice to find a person who likes my mom so much. But my ALGEBRA TEACHER?

Still too shocked to speak in full sentences, I got up and said in a soft voice, "School…go…bye…" and walked slowly out the door.

Waiting outside with the limo was Michael. I hate those people who get out of bed looking absolutely perfect. He, sadly, is one of those people.

He must have been able to sense something was wrong because he looked at me with concern and asked, "Mia, are you okay?"

"My mother went out with my Algebra teacher last night," I said shortly. Michael took the hint and we rode to school in silence.

**A/N- Tee hee, be sure to review!**


	3. JERRY! JERRY! JERRY!

**A/N- Sorry this took such a long time to get out. Dead week was last week, then this coming week is exam week...it's just all really frustrating. But I wanted to get a chapter out first before studying hard core. Hope you like it.**

**Chapter 3 **

**Mia's POV**

My algebra teacher.

My god, he's my ALGEBRA TEACHER!

That's all I kept thinking about on the way to school. I mean, what the hell was my mother THINKING? What does he talk about when the go out? Integers?

Oh, and not to mention that his nostrils are the size of LAKE EERIE.

What if this gets around? What if EVERYBODY finds out? I could never show my face in school!

Crap. What if JOSH RICHTER finds out?

I'm so screwed.

* * *

**Michael's POV**

God that sucks.

Her ALGEBRA TEACHER? I felt embarrassed for her.

She didn't look at me the whole way there. She kept looking down in her lap, not wanting to talk at all. I felt really bad for her, but hey, she can hold up on her own.

We finally pulled up to the school and I felt my stomach plummet as I saw a horde of cameras and microphones crowd around the entrance of the school. _Tina must have blabbed,_ I thought grimly.

Mia hadn't noticed anything yet. She was still looking down in total embarrassment.

"Michael?" Hans asked from the front seats.

"Continue. I'll get her past them."

At that, Mia looked up at me with questioning eyes. "What?"

"Get your backpack. We have to hurry past them."

"Hurry past who?" She asked as the limo slowed down.

"Let's go," I called out sharply as I grabbed he hand and pulled her out of the car.

Immediately the reporters began to swarm around us. I pulled Mia closer against me with my arm over her, protecting her from the glare of the flash bulbs.

"Princess Amelia, what's your favorite color?"

"Your highness, what's your favorite subject?"

"Your highness, is this your boyfriend?"

I resisted the urge to smile grimly, otherwise the media might think it was true.

"AH!" She cried as she fell against me.

"Whoa, are you alright?"

"No," she whispered, her face contorted in pain. "I think I twisted my ankle."

"Hold on," I said as I lifted her off her feet and carried her through the entrance of the school.

And despite the seriousness of the situation, holding her in my arms like that was really nice.

**

* * *

Mia's POV**

How can you be in so much pain, but at the same time, be in so much joy?

While Michael was getting me through those reporters, I tripped over something and my ankle sort of twisted and came out from underneath me. Then sweet, wonderful Michael literally _sweeps_ me off my feet and carried me into the school.

And then I went to the nurse's office waiting for her to treat my damn ankle. But of course the faculty was too busy warding off the reporters.

Michael called my dad, and let me tell you he was _furious_. He had to hold the phone a foot away from his ear and you could still hear my dad screaming. He said he'd come to the school straight away.

When Michael finally hung up, he heaved a sigh and plopped down on the bench next to me.

"You okay?" He asked.

I turned red and mumbled, "Yeah. Thanks to you." And then tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn't help it, and before I know, I'm sobbing.

Out of pity, Michael wrapped his arms around me and whispered, "Shhhh…it's alright. You'll be fine, I promise."

I sobbed into his shoulder for a little while longer the, against my will, pulled away from his hold. "Thanks," I said in a congested tone. "It's just…all of this…"

"Yeah, I understand," He smiled and handed me several tissues from the box on the nurse's desk. "Your dad and I will take care of this, so don't worry."

I started crying all over again and I leaned against his strong shoulder. "Thank you," I whispered.

I looked up at him and he looked back at me with his beautiful, intense peat bog eyes. "No problem," He replied huskily.

And for a split second, I swear that there was something that passed between us. I felt this weird connection and I knew I could trust him. His eyes told me I could believe him, because he would rather die than let me fall.

The nurse came in and interrupted our moment. Then I remembered; Michael was just doing his job.

**

* * *

Michael's POV**

I swear, when I find out who told, they are DEAD.

Mia was really distressed. She was even _crying_ in the nurse's office.

And of course, now her whole princess cover is blown. We were supposed to introduce her with this beautiful ball. I saw Clarisse's plans and everything. And now, it's all in vain.

But what really got me was that who ever told mad her _cry_. They betrayed her _trust_ and she got _burned_.

She's a harmless person. She didn't deserve to be outed the way she was.

And you know what the worst part was? That said, trusting look in her gray eyes. That look begged me not to let it happen.

But it did.

Oh well. No use beating myself up about it. It's in the past. Now I have to worry about her future security.

Bring on the Euro-trash terrorists.

Philippe came into the nurse's office where Mia, Principal Gupta and I were waiting.

"I'm here," He announced.

"Finally," I side whispered to Mia. "Gupta was about to wet herself.

"Your highness," She said with flowery hand motions and a high pitched voice. "Welcome to Albert Einstein High School."

He ignored her. "Mia, sweetie, how did they find out?"

"I don't know. Someone must have told them."

"But who?" Gupta asked, desperately trying to butt into the conversation.

"Do you think it was Grandmére?"

"No, she's been looking forward to this ball too much than to let something slip like that."

"Mia," I said grimly, "I think it was Tina."

"No! She couldn't have!"

"Tina who?" Philippe demanded.

"Tina Hakim Baba," Mia replied. "But she wouldn't. She'd never!"

"I'll call her immediately, your highness," Gupta said angrily. "She will be punished severely for this."

"No!" Mia yelled.

"That won't be necessary," Philippe said, his eyes opened wide. "Just…call her in here."

"Immediately," She replied promptly, and walked out of the office.

"It wasn't her, Dad!"

"Mia, she was the only other person who knew," I explained. "If it wasn't her, then who was it?"

Against my logic, Mia had no answer.

Ten minutes later, Principal Gupta walked into the office with a cowering Tina and a menacing Wahim behind her. "This is her, your highness."

Immediately, Tina launched herself at Mia and squeezed her tightly. "Mia! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, it just sort of…slipped out!"

"It _was_ you?" She exploded. "_You_ ratted me out to all those reporters?"

She looked horrified. "Oh, no! I didn't tell those reporters!"

"Then what the _hell_ are you talking about?"

"Well…"She started of hesitantly. "Lana was insulting you. She was saying how you should be wearing band-aids instead of bras again…"

I felt Mia stiffen next to me. Tears sprang up in her eyes again and I felt the overpowering need to pound Lana into a wall.

"And I just got really angry and worked up and I yelled, 'Yeah, well you're just jealous cuz you're not a princess!'"

Mia stared at Tina for a while, then buried her head in her hands. "Oh my god, you didn't."

"I'm sorry, Mia!" Tina begged again. "After I realized what I said, she walked away and I just sorta hoped that she wouldn't catch it."

**

* * *

Mia's POV**

That's it.

My life is over. Officially OVER.

Lana outed me and now Barbara Walters wants to know my favorite color.

You know what the worst part is? Grandmére thinks it's all _my_ fault, so she's punishing me by still going through with the stupid ball. So I _still_ have to be cultured and refined.

After Mrs. Klingan fixed up my ankle, Dad took me back to the plaza and Grandmére ranted for a half hour about how irresponsible I was, how all her plans were in vain, how I would now have to work extra hard to rectify my mistake.

"Well, then how about we just don't have the ball?" I suggested tiredly.

She narrowed her black lined eyes and said sourly, "Of course not, Amelia. It is much too late to cancel and you will not run away with your tail between your legs. You will go through with this with your head held high and a gracious smile on your face. Now, who will be sitting on your right side at banquet?"

I sighed and replied, "The Duke of Milan."

Michael drove me home and smiled at me sympathetically. "Are you okay?"

"Not really." I replied as I shook my head and sighed for the millionth time that day. "But I'll survive."

Michael looked at me with those meaningful chocolate eyes. "I'm sorry for what happened today. You've been through a lot in a short period of time."

That apology reached down into my chest and squeezed my heart painfully. "It wasn't your fault," I assured him. "The media's just like that…you know, they're like vultures, trying to get a piece of meat before all the other get to it."

When we got to the loft, he offered to stay with me again, but I declined in as princessy a fashion as I could. "No, that's okay. Besides, you haven't had a shower yet, and you're starting to smell."

He smiled at me and said, "Alright. You can call my phone, you know. Just in case you need anything." He handed me a little slip of white paper and got back into the limo.

I stared at the neatly written numbers in my hand. _He gave me his phone number_…I thought dazedly.

I walked into my apartment and was violently shaken out of my reverie to find Mr. Gianini on the couch with my mother, making out.

I quickly averted my eyes and mumbled, "Hi mom. Hi Mr. G," And darted out of there to my room.

I slammed the door and threw myself on the bed, still fully dressed. I began sobbing uncontrollably wiping my tears on my Star Wars bedspread. God, why is it always ME? Why can't it ever be a really mean person, like Lana? I never did anything to anyone, I'm nice, and I ate all my vegetables as a little girl. So okay, that's all I eat now, but that's not the point.

Now I am a flat, big footed, five foot nine inch freak with yield sign hair. Oh, and I'm A PRINCESS on top of all that with a crazy tattooed grandmother and a bodyguard to boot.

Well, he's a hot bodyguard, but that's beside the point.

Now all I need is a twin that no one told me about and then I'll be set to go on Jerry Springer.

I hate life.

**A/N- Please review. I'll probably go on an update craze over the summer, and reviews sure do help!**


	4. The Friendly Neighborhood Terrorist

**A/N- Sorry you guys! I would have had this chapter up WAY sooner if I had been able to LOG IN! I'm still a little peeved about it. Well here you go! The beginning of this chapter's sorta slow, but it's interesting at the end.**

**Chapter 4**

**Michael's POV**

I paced around the suite that I shared with Prince Philippe. There was a lot on my mind and I was really worried.

"Michael, you're worrying worse than I," said the prince. "Mia will be fine, and I'm sure that Helen will take care of any straggling reporters that might show up at their door."

Immediately I turned white when I remembered the piece of information that Mia had shared with me that morning. "Or not," I countered grimly.

"What would make you think differently? Trust me, Helen is a piece of work when she wants to be."

"Or she could be really distracted," I muttered as I ran to my cell phone and dialed the loft. Just as I had hoped, Mia's mom answered the phone.

"Hello?" She asked. I heard a strange, deep murmur in the background and instinctively tightened my hold on my cell phone.

"Ms. Thermopolis? Is everything alright?" I enquired.

"Michael? Yes, everything is—Frank!" She giggled. "Can't you see I'm on the—hold on a moment, Michael." Silence on the other end. Then, "Sorry, but I'm a little busy. Did you need anything?"

"How's Mia doing?"

"She's doing fine. Anything else?"

"So the reporters aren't bothering you?"

"Reporters? What report—" A loud buzz in the background interrupted her. "Frank? Can you go get that?" A few moments later, I heard the dull roar of reporters, microphones and flashbulbs going off randomly.

"What the hell!" Helen cried.

"I'll be right over, Ms. Thermopolis." I replied quickly and hung up my phone. I turned to Philippe and said, "It seems that Helen isn't handling it as well as you said she would." I grabbed my coat from the closet and called Hans to bring the limo around. I rushed out as the concierge called a goodbye to me.

"Mia's," I hissed at Hans as I got into the limo.

He must have sensed the urgency in my tone because next to no time we had arrived only to find the place swarming with reporters. I growled as I hopped out of the limo and battled my way through the cameras and microphones.

"Sir! Excuse me, are you friends with Amelia Renaldo?"

"Hey! Aren't you that guy that we caught carrying her into the school earlier?" I didn't have time to hear who had called the question, but the next thing I hear is, "Hey everyone! It's Princess Mia's boyfriend!"

_Oh crap_, I thought grimly. I battled my way through the crowd and reached the buzzer.

"LOOK MISTER, I DON'T CARE WHAT MAGAZINE YOU WORK FOR, I'M NOT LETTING YOU GO _ANYWHERE_ NEAR—"

"MS. THERMOPOLIS! IT'S MICHAEL!"

"Michael?" She asked apprehensively.

"HIS NAME IS MICHAEL!" I heard a reporter yell from behind me.

"Just let me in Ms. Thermopolis!"

The door opened and I gave a few well placed kicks to make sure that none of the reporters managed to get in. An arm came out of nowhere and pulled me into the apartment. The door closed behind me immediately, granting no one else entrance.

* * *

**Mia's POV**

I was feeling a little dehydrated from crying so much that day, so I needed to get a drink of water. I was planning on creeping quietly downstairs and past my Mom and Mr. G so they wouldn't notice little me and then I'd be back in my room free to mope as much as I wanted.

Unfortunately, I had only planned two people downstairs. Not three.

When I got down there, I saw my mom at the door pulling someone in and slamming the door shut. That someone was Michael.

"Now," Mom panted. She looked at me, then she looked at Michael saying, "Can someone _please_ tell me what's going on here?"

"Where's Mr. G?" I asked, trying to avoid the question.

My mom pointed to the couch as she walked over to him. He was holding an ice pack over his eye. "One of those reporters' microphones hit him." She explained as she gently lifted the ice off his head. "It doesn't look that bad, Frank. Looks like a faint black eye."

"Tomorrow's reaction will be interesting then," He said as he gave her a crooked grin.

Oh lord how I wanted to barf. However, I held my chunks and stumbled to the kitchen in desperate need for water.

"Mia, get back here!" I heard my mom yell. "Tell me what's going on! Why are reporters camping outside of our apartment?"

"Someone outed me," I called back eagerly gulping the water out of the glass that I had just filled. "More specifically, Lana."

"They crowded around the school too," Michael added. "That's how she hurt her ankle. How is it by the way?" He asked me as I limped out of the kitchen.

"It's still swollen, but it doesn't hurt to walk on." I replied while giving him a small, appreciative smile.

I looked at my mother and she gave me her hurt eyes. "Why didn't you tell me that there are reporters following you? And that you hurt your ankle?"

I turned red and said, "Well, when I got home, you looked kinda busy, so…" I trailed off.

She and Mr. G glanced at each other embarrassedly. "I think I'd better go. Helen, you don't mind if I take this ice pack with me, do you?"

"No, not at all." She shook her head, turning bright magenta.

"Bye," He said softly. He got off the couch and gave her a quick peck on her cheek as he let himself out of the apartment, fighting his way through the crowd of reporters.

It was just the three of us in the same room. "Well, uh, if you two don't mind, I have some homework to finish up, so…"

"Mia, please," Mom pleaded. "Stay. We need to talk." She looked meaningfully at Michael. "I know this sounds rude, but, I'd really like to talk to my daughter alone."

He gave us a gracious smile and said, "Of course. Sorry for intruding in the first place."

"No problem." She smiled back.

He turned to me and gave me this soul-searching gaze. Suddenly, my knees went weak instead of my ankle and shivers ran down my spine. "I'll see you tomorrow Mia." I heard the words, but I didn't quite comprehend them. Instead I just nodded dazedly and watched him walk away.

When he was safely out of the apartment, I shakily walked over to the couch and sat down. Mom sat down next to me and gave me a worried glance. "Mia…"

"Look, Mom, you don't have to explain anything to me." I spewed the semi-prepared speech that I had mentally written for the time I knew she would ask me how I felt about this situation. "I know you like him and he, apparently, likes you a lot. You shouldn't even have to ask for my permission, but I know you and you will anyway, and I want you to know that I'm totally okay with it."

Mom nodded and smiled in a relieved way. "Thank you. That's one issue out of the way."

I raised my eyebrows. "One?"

"Yes. Mia, these are your teenage years. These are supposed to be the most trying years of your life. But you've got a pressure put on you that no teenager should have. Now, I know that I've been spacey at times, but sweetie, I want you to know that you can tell me _anything_. Frank or no Frank, you are still my daughter and I am still your mother. If there's anything wrong, please, tell me. I want to help you."

Tell her anything, huh? How about this: I'M A FRESHMAN AT A NEW YORK PREP SCHOOL, I'M STILL AN A-CUP, I'M FIVE NINE, I'VE GOT TRIANGULAR SHAPED HAIR AND A FATHER THAT RUNS A COUNTRY FOR A LIVING AND PLANS FOR ME TO TAKE OVER THE FAMILY BUSINESS. I DON'T EXACTLY KNOW WHO MY FRIENDS ARE NOW BECAUSE OF ALL THAT'S HAPPENED, AND I THINK I MIGHT BE FALLING FOR MY BODYGUARD.

Oh, and THAT YOU'RE DATING MY ALGEBRA TEACHER, A SUBJECT WHICH, I AM FAILING BY THE WAY, AND NO MATTER WHAT I SAY, I WILL _NEVER_ BE OKAY WITH IT.

Somehow, I had a feeling that she'd be seriously overwhelmed by all that. So instead I told her, "Don't worry, Mom. I'm holding up fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go finish my homework." And I got up and left her to stew in her guilty feelings about being an awful mother.

When you lie, you're supposed to feel guilty right? Well I'm guessing that having a huge pit in your stomach counts too.

* * *

**Michael's POV**

I got back to Plaza feeling like a total idiot. They didn't need my help, Helen could have handled the reporters and Mia could have handled her mom. What the hell was I thinking? Why couldn't I have just listened to Philippe and left them alone? My only consolation was the thought that I was just doing my job.

_No you're not_, a voice in my head sneered at me. _You're only supposed to protect the princess from any bodily danger_.

But somehow, that didn't seem enough for me.

Determined to forget my little bout of stupidity, I took a cold shower to clear my head and lay down in the queen sized bed provided for me. Though normally I sleep like a log, I kept tossing and turning as visions of Mia crying on her bed kept popping into my head.

The next day, I had a feeling that Mia was going to be feeling a little blue, so I made sure that we had several full boxes of tissues in the limo.

When we had arrived at the apartment, I got out of the limo to greet her, only to find her hair tousled, her eyes bloodshot with dark purple circles around them, and her uniform wrinkled and mussed, like she hadn't even changed.

"Are you alright Mia?" I asked her, concernedly. "You don't look so hot."

She sniffed loudly and replied stuffily, "Well udlike you, Bichael, sub people just dode wake up lookig picture perfect."

I couldn't help but smile. She was so cute when she was sick. Well, she was so cute anytime, but she was especially endearing right now. "Well we don't want to be late for school."

"I beg to differ," She replied as she slipped into the limousine.

I chuckled as I followed her into the limo.

When we got to the school, the crowd of reporters was expected, and already planned for. There was a rope keeping them out of the way of the entrance of the school that faintly reminded me of the red carpet.

I got out first and held the door out for her as she got out with her back pack and a couple of tissues. She wiped her nose and continued to ignore the shouts of "Princess Mia! Princess Mia!"

Waiting outside the entrance was that strange blonde girl that had snubbed Mia. Lana, I think was her name. She and her loser boyfriend spotted her and waved her over. "Hey Mia!" They gave her a huge grin.

Mia raised her eyebrows, but walked right past them. Instead, she walked up to Tina and Wahim and they both walked into the school together.

"Hey," Wahim greeted me. "I heard about the bodyguard stunt you had to pull yesterday. I wish something like that would happen to Tina once in a while."

I raised my eyebrows and said, "Are you sure?"

"Well, you know what I mean. I was hired just out of a paranoia trip and no one will ever try to hurt Tina." He heaved a sigh and said, "I just wish I could guard someone who would actually need a bodyguard."

I chuckled and followed them inside the school.

* * *

**Mia's POV**

I walked to my locker at the end of the day with a huge headache. First Tina continued to apologize profusely. I swear, no matter what I said I couldn't get her to shut up. Then in Algebra, Lana pretended like I had been her best friend since first grade and told me that Sarah Taylor did this and Dennis Coffer was having a huge party at his house. "You should come too," She told me with an overly white smile. "It'll be fun."

"Um, I don't drink." I told her shortly as I began copying he Algebra notes off the board.

She looked at me as if I had grown two heads for a moment, then she gave a high pitched giggle that I swear only dogs can hear. "That's a good one, Mia. You're really funny, you know that?"

Whatever.

Lunch, however, was totally fun. I sat down with Tina and after telling her for the millionth time that I was okay, that she was forgiven and I didn't hold a grudge against her, she began talking about the new romance novel she was reading. I nodded and replied when I had to, but my mind kept drifting in and out of the conversation. Hey, I couldn't concentrate, especially since Michael was sitting in a corner in close proximity, his clean, soapy scent hacking at my already raw nerves.

Then suddenly, Lana, Josh, and their entourage came over to our table and sat down like they belonged there or something. Tina and I raised our eyebrows at each other and glanced at the sudden overflow of raging hormones at our table.

"You don't mind if we sit here, do you Mia?" Lana asked sweetly as she began poking at the two lettuce leaves on her tray.

Too stunned to say anything, I just stared at them with my jaw to the ground. It had always been some repressed, guilty dream that I harbored to be a part of the popular kids, but not at the expense of my dignity.

I glanced meaningfully at Michael, who, I was surprised to find, was watching me intently. He nodded and sat down at the empty space on my right. He put his arm around my shoulders and asked in his deep, mellowing voice, "Hey, Mia. Who're your friends?"

_What the hell is he DOING_? I screamed in my head. But I liked the feel of his arm around my shoulders, so I went with it. "Um…well, you know Tina. I don't know about these other guys though."

"What are you talking about, Mia?" Lana asked as she gave a high pitched giggle. "Hi, I'm Lana. I've been her best friend for a long time." She gave him a flirty smile and batted her eyelashes. I glanced over at Josh who was watching the exchange with fire in his eyes. _Strange. Josh never struck me as the jealous type_.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"Michael. I've been Mia's best friend for a long time too." He said, his voice loaded with double meaning.

She giggled again and stroked his hand that was resting on my shoulder. "Well…do you wanna be my best friend?"

At that Josh blew up. "What the hell, babe? I thought I was you 'best friend'!" He used the little finger quotes to make his point. "You know what? I'm sick of this shit. I'm sick of you flirting with every guy that comes along. We're through." He got up angrily and stalked out of the cafeteria.

Lana looked up horrified. "Babe? Wait! I was just being friendly! Oh, come on you know me! I want to be everyone's friend! Babe, wait!" She got up and ran after him. Soon after, their entourage left too.

Tina and I looked at each other and laughed hysterically. "Mi-Michael, that was t-truly great!" I gasped through my laughter.

He grinned and replied, "I do what I can."

Tina and I burst out laughing again. In the corner of my mind though, I noticed that he hadn't yet removed his arm. And I found myself wanting him to keep it there.

* * *

**Michael's POV**

On the way over to the Plaza, Mia and I were having a heated discussion over who would win in a sword fight: Zorro or a Samurai. I fiercely argued a samurai, while Mia argued the former.

I was in a good mood when I walked her inside. We had such an easy camaraderie between us. I loved the way she laughed, the way she used hand gestures to prove her point, the way she exaggerated details to prove me wrong. She was a fun person to be around.

We got to Clarisse's suite and they immediately began her princess lessons. I took my usual place at the door when Philippe took me aside and grimly whispered, "Michael, you need to read this." He handed me an already opened envelope.

Curious, I pulled the letter out and read.

_Dear Prince Philippe,_

_Your daughter is truly a beautiful girl. What a shame it is that she must die. It's no use trying to find out who this letter is from. I guarantee that you will not be able to find me. But perhaps a little…negotiation will be in order. I suggest you listen to my requests. We wouldn't want to have that pretty little throat cut, would we? _

_Yours truly,  
The Civilian_

Oh no…

**A/N- Dun dun dun! What will happen? Review and find out! Oh, and I have a question for you to answer please: who do you guys think would win in a sword fight, Zorro or a Samurai?Because I'm trying to prove to my friend that he is wrong.**


	5. Symbiotic Relationships

**A/N- Sorry you guys, I know I haven't updated in a while for this story. I would have updated sooner, but the document that this story was under wouldn't upload, so I ended up cutting and pasting. This starts out with Mia's POV, and changes whenever you see that little line thing. Lilly makes an appearance, but it's waaay ooc, so forgive me for that.**

**Btw, on the samurai/Zorro issue, we've got two for Zorro and one for a samurai, and one undecided. Thank you, guys.**

**Chapter 5**

Who the hell came up with the concept of curtsying? I swear, whenever I find them, I will KILL THEM.

And it didn't help my concentration any that Michael and Dad were busy whispering in the corner and looking over a funny piece of paper.

"Amelia!" Grandmère yelled. "Pay attention! You can't even curtsy properly, you will need this knowledge for the ball!"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes for the fifth time that day and said, "Yes, Grandmère," and went through the paces again.

Finally when I got out of there, Michael escorted me back to the limo, but for some reason, he seemed to have an unusually tight grip on my arm. Not that I normally minded when he held me, it's just that…well he was cutting off my circulation and I was starting to get a little dizzy.

"Michael?"

"Yes?" He asked. He didn't look at me, he just kept looking around suspiciously.

"Y-you're kinda h-hurting me," I winced as I pointed to his white-knuckled grip.

He smiled apologetically at me, but didn't loosen up. "I'm sorry, Mia, but this is just a precautionary measure."

"Michael, I highly doubt that some Euro-Trash terrorist is going kidnap me on my way out of the Plaza hotel."

He looked at me grimly and said, "You'd be surprised."

She just scoffed, like I was trying to scare her or something.

Truth is, Philippe and I combed that stupid letter from top to bottom for everything. We gave the letter to forensic scientists and asked for DNA testing on that strip of ready made glue that they have on envelopes.

I dropped Mia off at the loft and gave her specific instructions not to go anywhere tonight unless she called me to escort her there. She however just rolled her eyes and smiled. "Okay, Michael."

"Promise," I demanded.

She gave an exaggerated sigh and huffed, "I promise. Now go back to the Plaza before you end up staying over the night."

* * *

When I was sure she was safely inside the loft, Hans drove me back to the hotel. 

From the tales that my mom and dad told, a bodyguard can never be too careful. It is our duty, after all, to protect those who we are hired to guard. If something happened to Mia, I'd probably curl up and die.

That, and my career would go down the tubes.

Wait, since when did I care more for Mia than I did about my own well-being?

Shit, I'm being selfless again.

* * *

I pretended like it annoyed me that Michael was being so bossy and protective, but actually I was thrilled to pieces. I nearly died when he made me promise not to go out without telling him. I mean, how sweet can you get? 

I just wish they told me about that stupid letter. I know it was a terrorist letter. I mean, why else would dad and Michael be flipping out so badly? It's not like I can't handle the news or anything, because I've almost come to grips with being a princess, and I know that high profile political figures go through this kinda stuff all the time. I mean, my father's received, what, at least twenty-seven terrorist threats. And as far as I can tell, none of them have come true.

Who'd want to kill the princess of Genovia anyway? Seriously, the fate of my small principality isn't going to determine the fate of the world. I don't have overwhelming political power in the UN like England or the U.S. Why don't these people bother someone else, like Tony Blair, or George Bush? I think they'd get more out of it.

So all in all, I'm not that worried. Michael's got my back.

I totally trust him.

* * *

I can't stop pacing. It's a habit. An annoying habit, especially to Hans and Philippe. 

"Michael, you're going to wear a hole in the carpet," Philippe muttered irritably. "I'm her father. I should be worrying worse than you, but I'm not."

I looked at him. "How could you not? You're daughter's being threatened by a terrorist!"

He sighed. "I get threatened by terrorists all the time and nothing ever happens. I've got good security, and I hired good security for my daughter. I'm sure she'll be fine."

I sat down on the bed and tried to think of something other than Mia's impending doom. How about I call my sister? I haven't talked to her in a while. She may be a little know-it-all and domineering, but she means well. Most of the time, anyway.

I pulled out my cell phone and walked out into the hall. I dialed her number, praying she'd pick up. "Hello?"

"Lilly!" I cried out in relief. "Oh thank god. I need to talk to someone."

"Hey Michael. I thought I could sense your perverted thoughts an ocean away."

It's weird. We always joke about us having this weird mind connection, but as much as we joke, it's strangely true.

"How are you and your boyfriend, what's his name…Horace?" I hadn't even mentioned that fact that she never told me about him, I could just read her thoughts.

Of course, Lilly wasn't surprised. "Boris, Michael, Boris. And he's fine. He's playing a concerto for the Royal family on Tuesday."

"You're not going to dress him up, are you?"

"I can't trust him! I've told him a million times that the practice of tucking sweaters in one's pants is a huge fashion no-no, but he won't listen to me."

I chuckled. Lilly and Mia could be best friends if they ever happened to meet each other.

"How's your job going?"

I sighed. "I handled my first terrorist letter."

Lilly laughed. "Gee, what a milestone. You need to put that in your photo album, under 'Baby's First Terrorist Letter'."

"I'm just really worried, that's all."

"About what? Michael, it's not about your personal safety. As a bodyguard, you've got to put the needs of the person your guarding above your own."

"I know! I'm worried for Mia, that's what I meant."

"Is she worried?"

"No. We didn't even tell her about the letter."

"Oh, by the way, I saw you on the news."

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm on the news in London?"

"Well, when Princess Mia was outed, it was worldwide news. They got footage of you carrying her through those reporters. And as your sister, it is my duty to inform you that she is way out of your league, so don't even try."

Inwardly I winced, but I knew Lilly could sense it. "Ah ha!" She cried out. "I knew it, you do have feelings for your charge!"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," I muttered gruffly. "She twisted her ankle when we were going through and she would have gotten eaten alive if she just stayed there, so I had to help her out."

But of course, Lilly wasn't gonna buy that. "Uh huh, sure Michael. Just keep telling yourself that."

I needed a serious change of subject, so we talked about Mom and Dad and what was going on with their jobs.

I missed Lilly. As much as I complained about her and her stupid psychoanalyzing, she was my sister, and we shared this weird, unspoken connection.

When I hung up, I wanted to go over to the loft, to see if anything had happened to Mia. Right when I was going to tell Hans to bring the limo around, I decided against it. Maybe I was being obsessively protective. I needed to stop worrying about her. If she was fine, then I should be okay with it too.

The next day when we picked her up for school, she rushed out to meet me with a piece of toast in her mouth.

"Hi Michael," She said, though her words were muffled.

She was absolutely adorable. She had her hair strangely done that day, like pigtails or something, and she looked like she was four. I tugged on one of them and smiled. "Hi Mia."

She made a face at me and she got into the limo. I followed her and closed the door, making sure no one was running after us or something. As soon as she was buckled up, she began munching on her toast. She tore off a piece and offered it to me. "Want some?"

I shook my head. "No, that's okay."

She looked so content, just sitting in the limo with her pigtails bouncing and munching on her toast. She noticed that I was staring at her, and raised her eyebrows while drawing back self-consciously. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Taken aback, I stuttered, "L-looking at you l-like what?"

"Like I'm your favorite niece or something."

Somewhat relieved, I laughed and pinched her cheeks. "Because you just look so cute!" I put on that stupid little voice that grandmothers use when they're cooing at their already mature grandchildren.

And then all of a sudden, I felt the impact of the situation. I was touching her cheeks. Her skin was smooth and soft. I wondered what the skin on her neck felt like…

_NO!_ I screamed in my head. I immediately pulled back, embarrassed at my contact with her.

An awkward atmosphere settled over us. Desperate for something, anything to talk about, I said, "Uh, I know you're probably wondering why I was being so weird yesterday."

"It was a terrorist letter," She answered for me as she licked the crumbs off the tips of her long, slender fingers.

I looked at her incredulously. "How did you know?"

She smirked. "It was kinda obvious, wasn't it? I mean, you and dad were huddled up in a corner whispering to each other over a piece of paper. Then you deicide to go all Kevin Costner on me. What else could it have been?"

"So you're not freaked out or anything, are you?"

"Nah. I trust you Michael."

Those four words made my morning.

* * *

I think it's cute, Michael worrying about my personal safety and all. I know it sounds vixen-ish for me to say that, but how many times do I get to stay stuff like this? 

The day was going about rather normally. Lana and Josh obviously overcame whatever was going on between them, because she was chipper in the morning. I just wanted to roll my eyes when she and Chelsea talked about how wonderful their boyfriends were. Josh and Scott had nothing on Michael.

Wait, what was I saying? Michael wasn't my boyfriend. He was my bodyguard. Damn wishful thinking.

During biology, my lab partner, Kenny smiled as I walked in. "Hey Mia."

I smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, Kenny."

He raised his eyebrows. "What for?"

"For treating me like a normal girl and not a princess." I huffed. "Everyone calls me princess now. I just want to be a normal person."

He smiled again. "I can only imagine."

We went through our normal exchange during biology: he would take the notes and I would copy his homework. It was a wonderful, symbiotic relationship. Well, I don't really know what I do, but Kenny doesn't complain. Note to self: find out something I can do for Kenny.

When school ended, Michael walked up to me. "Whywere you flirting with Kenny?" He accused.

I stared at him incredulously. "What? Where the hell did that come from?"

"You were all over him during biology!"

"Michael, he's the only guy to treat me like a person and not a princess. Other than you of course," I added quickly as I spun the dial on my locker.

"He probably just wants you to think that, to get you to like him or something."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure."

"I'm serious, be careful around him."

I shut my locker and smiled at him. "Okay, Michael. I'll be careful around fifteen-year-old guys with strange anime fetishes."

"Mia," He warned.

I giggled. "Look, Michael, I don't feel anything for the guy. He's a nice person with a big heart and brain that lets me use his biology notes. Nothing more."

He still didn't look too convinced so I held his hand and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

I finally shut him up and we both walked back to the limo. Today Grandmère said she had a special surprise for me. I didn't really want to find out what it was, knowing her, but I was getting loads and loads of thank you letters from Greenpeace. I couldn't let them down, could I?

* * *

I really, really don't like that Kenny kid. Something about his pasty appearance and goofy smile just irks me. 

I don't think Mia took me seriously with the warning. I know what kids like Kenny are after: they think with their dicks and masturbate to porn when they're parents aren't home. I didn't want Mia going out with a loser like that.

Then again, I didn't want Mia going out with anyone period, but that's something completely different.

Oh goddammit, why am I so protective over a fourteen-year-old, other than the fact that I'm her bodyguard and am getting paid to do this?

I looked across the limo and saw Mia's blonde head bent over a book, trying to do her homework. "Is that algebra?" I asked.

She nodded and started erasing her paper in a frustrated manner. "Michael, could you help me? I don't understand what they're talking about!"

I smiled and crossed the limo to sit next to her. "See, that's the problem here, you're doing FOIL all wrong."

I continued to help her with her homework until we got to the Plaza. She shoved her books into her backpack and sighed. "I really don't want to go to princess lessons today."

I chuckled. "Do you ever want to go to princess lessons?"

"Well today Grandmère said she had some sort of 'big surprise' and she had that evil grin on her face. I'm kinda scared to tell you the truth."

I helped her out of the limo and said, "I'm pretty sure it's illegal for her to bake you and eat you, if that makes you feel any better."

She grimaced and said, "I'm pretty sure that wasn't it, but thanks for the reassurance."

"Any time."

When we got to her grandmother's suite, she was immediately whisked away to some obscure room. Philippe came up to me and showed me another envelope, from the same terrorist. This time, I wasn't as concerned as yesterday, but still very wary.

* * *

AAAHHH! 

Okay, okay, I just have to breathe really, really deeply. In…out…in…out. Everything's gonna be fine…I don't look too terribly…

Oh who the hell am I kidding, I look like Lana!

What am I gonna do? I can't go to school looking like this tomorrow! I'll be the laughingstock of the whole school! I look like a total wannabe!

This is so not good!

_

* * *

Dear Prince Philippe, _

_My second letter, has hopefully reached you before this wonderful ball that is being planned in your daughter's honor. Understand that I have not forgotten my threat. You will receive a letter later this week entailing my demands. If they are not met…well you can use your imagination. _

_Yours truly,  
__The Civilian_

Philippe and I looked at each other warily. "How does he know about the ball?" He asked. "Clarisse refuses to divulge that information to anyone."

"Mia just wants to forget that it's happening, much less acknowledge it."

At that moment, Clarisse walked in with a triumphant swagger. "I'm pleased to introduce my granddaughter. Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo, princess of Genovia."

A reluctant Mia came out from the other room with two other frilly men behind her.

I felt like my knees would come out from underneath me. Mia was pretty to begin with but somehow they had transformed her into an angel. They put on a touch of makeup to make her face sweeter. Her hair was in loose, gentle curls around her face and just below her shoulders, and her gray eyes were lined which made them look huge. Her slender figure was wrapped in a simple, yet elegant dress of fine, wine-colored silk.

Philippe smiled and said, "Mia, you look beautiful."

She scoffed and said, "I look like the inside of a Fig Newton."

"Nonsense, Amelia. Sebastiano designed this especially for you. And I think Paolo did a wonderful job with your hair and makeup." Clarisse reprimanded. She turned to me and gave me a sly smile. "What do you think, Michael?"

"Y-y-you look g-g-great," I squeaked.

She smiled at me and I swear I really was going to collapse that time. "Thank you, Michael."

And she turned around and went back into the room to get changed.

When she was gone, I turned to Philippe only to find him smiling slyly at me. "What?" I asked, trying my best to stop shaking.

"Nothing."

**A/N- I'm soooo sorry! I'm total crap at writing a terrorist letter, so please review and give me some tips if you have them!**


	6. It's His JOB

**A/N- This is shorter than my other chapters, I know. (hangs head in shame) But it's a very important chapter, there's a lot that Michael and Mia both end up figuring out. Starts out with Mia's POV and switches to Michael whenever you see the little line thingy.**

**And by the way, you guys, please take the time to read the author's notes at the ends. Some of your questions may already be answered.**

**Chapter 6**

I lay in my bed that night, trying to come up with every possible reaction to my new makeover. Tina would squeal excitedly, and everyone else would just scoff.

I turned over and glanced at the clock. It was one o'clock in the morning and I still couldn't get to sleep.

What is it that's keeping me up? Why does it feel like there's some nagging feeling in the back of my mind?

I'm losing my mind, I swear.

* * *

Sleep isn't normally a problem for me. It's been said that I could quite possibly sleep through World War III. 

So what's wrong tonight?

The image of the made over Mia keeps popping in my head. She looked gorgeous in that dress. Whoever's escorting her is very lucky.

Damn bastard.

Hey, no, that's pretty mean. I have to think nice thoughts. Nice, happy, fluffy thoughts…

Mia in my arms, kissing me passionately…

No!

Goddamn it. This isn't working. What I need is some fresh air, and a glass of warm milk.

I'll be fine. Mia isn't controlling my life. I am.

Though that's more than I can say for my libido.

* * *

The only thought that sustained me that morning: TGIF. I took my time getting ready for school. I stalled as much as I could and ate breakfast as slowly as I dared. My mother was sleeping in because she had a late date with Mr. G the other night, so she didn't see my newly made over self. 

I heard the limo honk at least seven times before I finally got outside.

Michael was standing there with an irritated look on his beautiful face. "What took you so long?"

I looked down, not wanting to look him in the eyes. "Sorry," I muttered and got into the limo, trying to ignore the painful thumping in my chest.

We drove in silence. I wasn't exactly the greatest conversationalist that day because I was too busy imagining the reactions of my fellow classmates. Not like I hadn't already gone over this a million times in my head, it's just that I couldn't stop thinking about it. I was already the laughingstock of the school with my being a princess already, but now I felt like a freakish Cinderella who doesn't want to go to the ball, but is forced to by her mean, tattooed fairy godmother.

I should rewrite some of the fairytales. I know I could do a way better job than those freaking Grimm Brothers.

The limo slowed and my heart started thumping faster and harder. I sucked in a deep breath and opened the limo door and slowly got out.

As usual, Tina was waiting for me with Wahim and her expression was just as predicted. Several seconds of stunned silence, then "OH MY GOD, MIA YOU LOOK ABSOLUTEY FANTASTIC!"

I gave her a weak smile and said, "Well I'm glad you like it."

She grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the school, leaving Michael and Wahim to follow us. Immediately she began chattering in my ear telling me all the plans she had for whenever she finally managed to convince her father to let her have a makeover.

Lord, give me strength.

* * *

I feel like such a jerk. I snapped at her this morning, when she just needed someone to help her self image. 

Tina and Wahim bade goodbye to us when we got inside the school. She was silently pulling out books for her first class when Lana waited at the locker next to Mia's. When Lana saw her, she did a double take and sneered. "Wow, Mia. Nice try. Too bad that the wannabe look is out."

I saw her jaw clench and her eyes go glassy, but she didn't say anything. She just looked straight ahead and refused to look anywhere else.

When she got to Algebra, whispers started flying everywhere. I heard some of them too. "Wow, I can't believe that's Mia," and "God, who does she think she is," and "Damn that girl cleans up nice". That last one made my fists clench.

The whole day she just looked down, trying not to attract any attention. I wanted to shield her away from the prying eyes of the world, but that would look reeeeaaaaally weird.

And princess lessons didn't go very well for her either. You could have heard Clarisse yelling at her three stories down.

Needless to say she was extremely distressed on the limo ride back home. I sensed her unhappiness and said, "Hey, you okay?"

She looked up at me, her gray eyes swimming in tears. "No," She whimpered. "Not really."

I moved to the other side of the limo and gave her a hug. "It's okay," I whispered. "It's okay."

She sobbed into my shoulder for a little while, then pulled away. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I'm acting like a self-centered brat."

I smiled at her. "You're a princess: it's in your blood."

She smiled through her tears and said, "Thanks for the confidence, Michael."

"I do what I can."

When we got to the loft she gave me a quick peck on the cheek and bounded out of the limo before I could blink.

* * *

Oh god, I feel like such an IDIOT! 

I kissed him! Granted, it was on the cheek, but still.

It's like someone took over my body for a moment. I stood by and watched while my evil twin that loves embarrassing me pecked him on the cheek. When I realized what I had done, I turned as red as a tomato and high tailed my ass out of there.

This is so EMBARRASSING!

WHY did I have to be assertive just then? WHY?

It'll be so awkward tomorrow! He has to escort me to princess lessons again, and I have plans with Tina to go ice skating.

When I got home I started banging my head against the wall until mom told me to stop. She said she had a splitting headache and if I made any noise that could be heard from more than twelve inches away, she would call Michael over and tell him to pound me.

Well after I just kissed him, I wouldn't be surprised if he did.

Immediately I called Tina and told her all about it. And let me tell you, her squeal on the phone is just as effective as it is if you're standing right in front of her.

"OH MY GOD MIA! THAT IS SO COOL!"

I sighed. "It's not cool. It's embarrassing!"

"Why would it be embarrassing? He's a totally hot bodyguard that answers to your every whim, not to mention he probably likes you."

"What? Where the hell did that come from?"

"Think about it, Mia. Why would he want to spend the night over at your place over the plaza the first day he met you?"

"Because my mother wasn't home and it's his job."

She ignored me and went on. "And why would he be so extra protective of you, for example, when leaving the plaza?"

"Because there's a crazed terrorist who thinks he's gonna get something out of threatening to kill me. And it's his job."

"Then why would he carry you through the reporters and into school?"

"Because I sprained my ankle."

"Why did he carry you, though? He could have just let you walk against his shoulder."

I couldn't answer her. I didn't have a good enough reply.

* * *

She kissed me. 

Granted it was on the cheek, but still.

She kissed me!

Okay, Michael, calm down. She probably didn't mean anything by it. She was just feeling really depressed and was just thanking me for trying to help her out.

But I don't want to think about that. I have this fuzzy, light feeling in my chest and I really don't want it to go away.

I like the fuzzy, light feeling.

Does she have the fuzzy, light feeling?

Oh god, I'm thinking like I'm drunk.

When I got back the Plaza, I threw myself on the bed and buried my face in the pillows, trying to get lost in my thoughts. Did she mean anything by it? Did she like me? And why wasn't I weird about this?

I decided that my best bet would be to call Lilly. She could sort through my emotions better than I could.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my sister's number with lightning fast fingers. After two rings, she answered the phone with a, "I'm sure she meant nothing by it, she's probably just confused and you're not weird about it because you like her."

My heart sunk, yet soared at the same time. "I like her?"

"I haven't seen you act this way since Judith Gershner in tenth grade."

Inwardly I shuddered. "Please don't remind me of her. I still have that twitch."

"Whatever you say," She replied with amusement in her voice.

"So I like her?"

"No, Michael, I'm trying to mess with your emotions because I totally approve of you going after a chick four years younger than you. OF COURSE YOU LIKE HER!"

I winced at the mention of the age difference. "How?"

"Because she's pretty, she shares your geeky obsession with sci-fi, she's got strong, humanitarian convictions, and she's vulnerable. You're attracted to that for some freaky, fetish-like reason."

"How do you know this?"

"I'm your sister, I make it a point to know this."

I sighed and ran my hands through my hair. "Do you honestly think I don't stand a chance with her?"

I could almost hear her shrug. "I'm not in her mind, Michael. I haven't even met her. I just know that she's a lot different than the other girls you've gone out with."

We sat in silence for a little while. "From what you know, do you approve of her?" I asked.

"From what I know, yeah. I like that she's a vegetarian."

I grinned reminiscently. "It drives her grandmother up the wall."

"I can imagine."

We chatted a little while longer and hung up. As I put my phone away, I examined my newly discovered feelings.

I like her.

Oh shit.

I like her!

This isn't good! It's not right, it's not professional! I'm her freaking bodyguard!

And besides…what if she doesn't think of me that way?

**A/N- PoorMichael. He's having some self-esteemissues too.**

**I will try to update quickly and frequently, but health and speech in the summer is a pain in the ass. Not to mention there are sometimes when my computer hates me and...well I'm sure you guys can relate. It's safe to say, however, that I will have the next chapter of this up on Thursday or Friday.**

**Our little friend, _The Civilian_ will make another appearance next chapter in a big way. Thank you guys for all the tips on writing terrorist letters, they were extremely helpful.**

**I love the reviews, you guys! You've all been so awesome, seriously, without you this story would have gone down the drain. So please, keep it up.**


	7. Pantene ProV, Baby

**A/N- Ha, I lied. I'm having it out by Wednesday. I'm pretty sure you don't mind, though. You know the drill: starts out with Mia's POV.**

**Chapter 7**

I'm crushing on my bodyguard.

I'm crushing on him real bad.

Not good, not good, not good.

I have to stop crushing on him. That's the only solution to this whole, messed up situation. I mean, what else can I do?

**Top 10 Pros of Liking Michael**  
10. He's a total Star Wars fan, which is way sexy  
9. He helps me with Algebra  
8. He can kick ass in seven different languages  
7. My mom, dad, and grandmother already like him  
6. He can play the guitar!  
5. He totally respects my humanitarian interests  
4. I haven't seen him without his shirt, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be disappointed  
3. He's got beautiful, shaggy brown locks  
2. He's got these eyes that make me feel like I'm begin sucked in whirl pools and I never want to look away  
1. He knows just the right thing to say whenever I feel like crap

**Top 10 Cons of Liking Michael**  
10. He's absolutely gorgeous and half the girls in my school are already in love with him  
9. He's got a little sister, and from what I'm told, she seems really intimidating  
8. Even if Grandmère likes him, I'm pretty sure princesses don't go out with their bodyguards  
7. If Dad finds out, he'll go absolutely berserk and fire him  
6. I know practically nothing about his past life  
5. He's already got some strange fetish with Buffy the Vampire Slayer  
4. He's the most intelligent person in the world and he could get any girl he wanted; I'm completely open to heart break  
3. He's my bodyguard; what can be mistaken for affection could be merely an action required to perform his job  
2. I'm fourteen, and he's eighteen; huge maturation and age difference  
1. He doesn't like me back

So clearly, according to these lists, the cons heavily outweigh the pros, and any other sensible human being would immediately cease all crushing on Michael.

But of course, I'm not a sensible human being, and I just have to go ahead and like him from afar and hope to god that I'll find someone down the road that is as good or better than Michael.

Unfortunately, that doesn't look like that's gonna happen for a while. Or at all.

_

* * *

Dear Prince Philippe, _

_These are the demands I have promised. I'm sure you have been waiting with bated breath. You must comply with them in the order they are listed, and within the time period allotted._

_-Seven million dollars in small, unmarked bills; you will receive a telephone call giving you the specific time, place, and circumstances of the drop_

_-A formal apology to the royal family of Monaco in a press conference at the end of next week: they have suffered great slander at the hands of the Dowager Princess Clarisse Renaldo, and as a result, have no political power or say in the UN_

_-A denouncement of Princess Amelia's claim to the Genovian throne at the ball that is currently being planned_

_Remember these are _demands_ and not requests. If Princess Amelia is not to be harmed, then you _will_ acquiesce._

_Yours truly,  
__The Civilian_

I snorted in disgust and gave the letter back to Prince Philippe. "Obviously some bitter, Monaco Supreme-ist."

He nodded as he carefully folded the letter and placed it back into the envelope. "Forensics came back with the test results. No DNA was left on the letter or envelope and no traces of evidence that could help us track down the sender were found."

I looked down at my shoes, lost in thought. "Are you going to go through with these demands?"

"I see no need. Amelia has top notch security. She'll be fine." He clapped my shoulder as he walked to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

I lay down atop the mountains of pillows that the Plaza had so graciously given me. I wish I were as confident as Prince Philippe…I couldn't get rid of the burning feeling at the bottom.

Maybe it was just my overprotective-ness.

But wait, that doesn't make any sense. Conventionally, her father is supposed to be more protective of her than even her bodyguard, right? Which is really weird because Prince Philippe doesn't seem too worried. I'm not calling him a bad parent or anything, I'm just saying that if it were my daughter, I'd hunt the bastard down. But I just have to trust his instincts on this one. He is royal and has received more death threats than I have.

Oh god. I've got it bad.

* * *

Who the hell is awake at this hour? Honestly, only vampires, hookers, and rapists are up right now. And they're probably doing their last rounds. 

I grumbled as I got up and threw my screeching alarm clock across the room. My grandmother, being the kind, thoughtful, sweet person that she is, insisted that I start my princess lessons early that day. I was to be at the Plaza promptly at six o'clock and no later.

I pulled on a semi-acceptable ensemble and brushed out my now officially blonde hair. I grimaced, remembering the burning in my scalp after Paolo had applied the creamy peroxide. They make it look so comfortable in the commercials, but let me tell you: bleaching your hair hurts like nothing else.

I stumbled around the kitchen making my early morning tea when my mother found her way in with bleary, red rimmed eyes and a pale pink bathrobe. "What the hell are you doing up so early?" She rasped.

"Princess lessons," I replied as I took the whistling pot off the stove.

"God that woman's the devil," She mumbled as she pulled a mug out of the dishwasher and held it out to me. I placed a teabag in both of the mugs and poured the water.

We sat at the kitchen table for a little while, sipping our tea in silent contemplation. "I like the makeover, by the way. I just never got around to telling you. I noticed, I promise."

I grimaced. "I'm glad you like it. I feel like a Lana wannabe."

She gave a sleepy smile and stroked my hair. "Oh, sweetie. You looked way prettier than her to begin with. Trust me, she's got nothing on you."

I smiled. It was a nice gesture. "Thanks, mom, but please don't take it personally if I don't believe you. After all, I am genetically related to you. If you insult me, then essentially you are insulting yourself."

"Genes have nothing to do with it, honey. You are a beautiful person, inside and out." She took my hand and rubbed her thumb over my knuckles.

It took everything I had to prevent myself from rolling my eyes. That's the kind of preachy thing that's meant to boost anyone's self-esteem. Somehow, I'm immune to all those kinds of comments.

I looked at my watch and drained the last drops of tea from my mug. "I've gotta go, Mom. The limo's probably outside right now. Afterwards, Tina and I are going skating."

She nodded. "Have a good day, sweetie. Try not to tire yourself out, okay?"

* * *

I saw Mia stumble out of her apartment slowly, holding a hand over her mouth to hide her yawn. "Hi, Michael," She greeted me sleepily. 

I couldn't help but smile at her fondly. "Good Morning, sleepy-head." I took her elbow protectively and led her into the limo.

As soon as she got settled, she faced me and said, "Michael, if you don't mind, I'm going to rest my eyes a little before we get to the Plaza, okay? I'm still really tired."

I nodded. "Sure."

She smiled and settled against the plush leather seats in the limo. "Thank you."

When I was sure she was comfortable, I pulled out my iPod. I tried not to stare at her sleeping form, but I couldn't help it. Her long limbs were gracefully curled in a tight ball with her slender-fingered hands folded gently underneath her head.

God she was hot even when she was asleep.

Stop it, I told myself. I needed a distraction. I placed the headsets carefully in my ears and turned on my iPod. I was scanning my playlist for a song. I gulped as Frank Sinatra's famed voice filled my ears: _"You make me feel so young…" _

Skip that.

_"I've flown around the world in a plane…I've settled revolutions in Spain…The North Pole I have charted, but can't get started with you…"_

Yeah, that too.

_"I've got you…under my skin…"_

No.

_"It's not the pale moon, that excites me…that thrills and delights me…oh no…it's just the nearness of you…"_

Okay, this isn't working.

_"I've got a crush on you…sweetie pie…"_

This must be some sick, cosmic joke.

_"You know you wanna, kiss the girl…"_

WHAT THE HELL?

* * *

I opened my eyes to find Michael scowling at the iPod in his palm and looking about ready to throw it. 

"Are you okay?" I asked concernedly.

He jumped as if he just realized I was in the limo. He nodded and said, "I'm fine…it's just…my stupid iPod…"

I grinned. "What's on your playlist?"

I saw him blanch and stutter wildly, "Uh, no! You can't see it…it's kinda not working right…so, I'll have to fix it later or something."

I raised my eyebrows. "Okay, Michael. Whatever you say."

We stopped just then and he quickly stuffed his iPod into the little compartment next to the seats. He popped out of the limo and helped me out of it.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked looking at him closely. "You still look a little pale."

He nodded quickly. "I'm fine. I didn't get much to eat last night. As soon as I get some food in me, I'll be okay."

Still not quite convinced, I let him lead me into the Plaza.

When we got to my grandmother's suite, I found her sitting there with a strange, portly man with a scowl on his face. Grandmère sported a matching one.

"Amelia," She sniffed as she gracefully stood up. "I would like you to meet the Monaco Ambassador, Federico Montessori."

I curtsied as Grandmère taught me and he bowed. "Your Highness," He said in a scratchy voice as he took my hand in his and gently touched it to his lips. "It is a pleasure to meet you in person. I have often dreamed to meet the future Genovian monarch."

There was something about his eyes…his eyes shone a dark, mysterious black that made the hair on my arms stand up. I didn't trust this guy.

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Signor Montessori," I replied in my best Italian accent.

"We were just discussing the issue of invitations for your ball, Amelia," Grandmère said while shooting a dangerous look at the ambassador.

"Yes, I request that we have at least twenty-five politicians from Monaco present." He announced firmly while ignoring my grandmother's evil stare.

Wow, the guy has more guts than me. I would have buckled under and immediately have given her anything she wanted.

"No. I absolutely refuse. Ten politicians, and perhaps the royal family. No less."

They were locked in a staring contest when I cleared my throat loudly. "I'm sorry, Signor Montessori, I cannot finish this discussion right now. I must instruct my granddaughter today."

"Fine, but we will continue this discussion."

"Feel free to contact my personal assistant for an appointment." She said in a final tone. "Michael, would you please escort this gentleman to his vehicle?"

He came up from the door and quietly brought him by the elbow out of the room.

When he was gone, Grandmère turned to me, the scowl still not completely erased from her face. "Monacoans (**A/N- is that the right word? Monacoans?**)," She scoffed. "I cannot stand them at all."

As soon as she had a sidecar and she had calmed down a little, she resumed where we had left off yesterday during at the end of princess lessons.

* * *

I got back to the suite five minutes later, after having escorted Signor Montessori to his limo. Clarisse was pounding the guest list into Mia's head and she was reciting back like a good child. 

While looking around, kind of bored, I spotted a folded piece of paper on the floor. I picked it up and read it. Immediately, my jaw dropped to the ground.

Mia had written top ten pros and cons to liking me?

Whoa…

I quickly pulled out a pen and started writing on it. You know, adding my little commentary for fun. Not like I was gonna give this back anyway.

**Top 10 Pros of Liking Michael**  
10. He's a total Star Wars fan, which is way sexy: _Not many girls would consider that too sexy, Mia. You're the only one I know like that.  
_9. He helps me with Algebra: _Just cuz I aced it when I was taking it. You can do good, if you'd only pay attention.  
_8. He can kick ass in seven different languages: _Eight, actually_.  
7. My mom, dad, and grandmother already like him: _I don't know about your grandmother, though.  
_6. He can play the guitar: _And keyboard, and drums, and bass…  
_5. He totally respects my humanitarian interests: _I have to. Lilly's a lot like you about this kinda thing.  
_4. I haven't seen him without his shirt, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be disappointed: _I could take a picture if you want and then you could judge for yourself.  
_3. He's got beautiful, shaggy brown locks: _Pantene Pro-V, baby.  
_2. He's got these eyes that make me feel like I'm begin sucked in whirl pools and I never want to look away: _Like you should talk.  
_1. He knows just the right thing to say whenever I feel like crap: _I just feel like I can identify with you._

**Top 10 Cons of Liking Michael  
**10. He's absolutely gorgeous and half the girls in my school are already in love with him: _They don't matter, Mia. How many times do I have to tell you that?  
_9. He's got a little sister, and from what I'm told, she seems really intimidating: _Well, yeah, but I can control her sometimes.  
_8. Even if Grandmère likes him, I'm pretty sure princesses don't go out with their bodyguards: _You'd be surprised at how many royal girlfriends my dad had.  
_7. If Dad finds out, he'll go absolutely berserk and fire him: _I don't know about that…  
_6. I know practically nothing about his past life: _But you could learn.  
_5. He's already got some strange fetish with Buffy the Vampire Slayer: _Hey, I know she's not real. I swear. I just cry at night cuz she isn't.  
_4. He's the most intelligent person in the world and he could get any girl he wanted; I'm completely open to heart break: _Mia, if I could get any girl that I wanted, don't you think I already would have?  
_3. He's my bodyguard; what can be mistaken for affection could be merely an action required to perform his job: _Would most bodyguards carry their charges through a horde of reporters, even if their ankle was sprained? I'm still mentally beating myself up for that.  
_2. I'm fourteen, and he's eighteen; huge maturation and age difference: _You're one of the most insightful, mature girls I've ever met, and that's including all the girls my age.  
_1. He doesn't like me back: _I wouldn't jump to conclusions about that one if I were you._

Knowing Mia, she probably obsessively pored over this list until she decided in her lovably pessimistic way that she could, under no circumstances, like me at all.

You know, sometimes she's just too level-headed for her own good.

Well…

At least I know she likes me.

Ha ha! She likes me! WHOO HOO!

* * *

Princess lessons that day left me emotionally scarred. I swear, I will have this twitch till I die. 

When I finally was allowed to leave, I found Michael standing near the doorway with a crooked grin on his face. "You seem happy," I said with my eyebrows raised.

"Yeah. I fixed my iPod."

"Great."

"Yeah. Great."

We stood there for a while and I felt myself getting sucked into his eyes again, when suddenly he pulled me out of my trance. Literally. "Come on, we don't want to keep Tina waiting." He said while he grabbed my hand tightly.

What the hell?

* * *

Oh crap. 

You know what I just realized?

I'm awful at expressing emotion.

So how can I tell her that I like her back?

And besides, wouldn't that just be really, really weird? Wouldn't that freak her out, BIG time? She's already like a deer in the headlights, what with all the crap going on in her life.

So I can't tell her yet.

Goddamn it.

Hans stopped at the ice rink and we got out. I stepped out onto the curb on the right side of the limo and Mia got out on the left side. I turned around to look at her, then watched in horror as a huge black SUV sped up out of nowhere. The heavy door swung open revealing a man dressed in stifling black. He grabbed Mia around the mouth and dragged her inside.

As soon as my brain registered what was going on, I pulled out my gun and started firing at the car, but it was too late. The door had already closed and the attackers were intelligent, ensuring that the exterior was bullet proof. As it sped off, I tried to catch the license plate, but there was none.

I slid back into the limo and hollered at Hans, "Quick, follow that black SUV!"

But by the time Hans had started moving, it was too late.

The goddamn thing got away.

**A/N- For those of you who were wondering why this is under the catagory Action/Adventure, you know why now.**

**Review please!**


	8. Terms of Employment

**Chapter 8**

I felt a pair of rough hands hold my wrists together as a scratchy length of rope was wound tightly around them. I tried kicking and punching and flailing, but it was no use. The man was too strong. "AAAAAHHHHH! GET OFF ME! GET OFF ME!"

"Shut up! Goddamn it, shut up you stupid wench! I SAID SHUT UP!"

I stopped screaming long enough to take a good look at my attacker, but that length of silence was enough. I felt a hard thump against the side of my head and immediately afterwards, passed out.

* * *

"Hello?"

"Mia was kidnapped."

Pause. Then, "WHAT?"

"Mia was kidnapped."

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN MIA WAS KIDNAPPED? WHO KIDNAPPED HER? WHAT HAPPENED? DAMN IT, MICHAEL WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?"

"I know, I know," I said repeated over and over again. There was no excuse for my idiocy. I should have made sure that she got out on the same side of the limo as I did. I should have been especially careful. I shouldn't have let my guard down.

I shouldn't have let the stupid SUV get away.

After Philippe took a few calming breaths. "Where are you right now?"

"We're trying to catch up to that SUV."

"Have you, yet?"

"No."

"Then I suggest you come back to the Plaza right now. I doubt you'll be able to find it again. I need you back here so we can work out a plan to get her back."

I paused for a little while, then asked tentatively, "Does this mean I'm not fired?"

"We'll discuss your terms of employment after my daughter is safely back in her home." And he hung up.

"Hans," I called to the driver in the front. "We need to get back to the Plaza."

"But what about Princess Mia?"

"We're going to work on it." I said shortly.

On the way back, I couldn't stop thinking about Mia. What was happening to her? What were they doing to her? And how was I going to get her back?

* * *

I woke up later and found myself bound to a chair by rope around my torso and my wrists and ankles were tied by another length of rope.

"Finally, you're awake," I heard the same harsh voice call out at me from earlier in the car.

I was too exhausted to scream, so I rasped, "What do you want from me?"

He punched me in the face and I whimpered softly. "None of that lip." He muttered angrily. "Talk only when you're spoken to."

I was too terrified and too exhausted to reply.

The man smirked at me. "No one's going to pamper you here, Princess. So get used to the five star treatment here."

I listened carefully to his words. It sounded like a Monacoan accent.

"Now, I'm going to ask you this question once. What is the number of your father's cell phone."

I took a deep breath and said shakily, "What are you going to do to him?"

He punched my face again. "You didn't answer my question."

I kept my mouth shut. I didn't know what he was going to do with dad's cell number. I didn't want to risk the chance that he would be harmed. I didn't want anyone to get hurt.

He hit me round the head several more times till I passed out.

* * *

When I got back the Plaza, Philippe and I called Ms. Thermopolis, then the police. They had sent out an Amber Alert after two hours.

Three hours later, FBI and forensic scientists came over to look over the letters.

"We're hooking the telephone to the tracking device," Deputy Maloney explained to a distressed Helen Thermopolis. After she had heard the news, she rushed straight over. "If the attacker calls, we'll be able to track him after the first ring."

After a few minutes, the phone rang. Immediately the FBI agents got into position and Maloney slipped the headphones soundly over his ears. After the second ring, Philippe picked up the phone and said shakily, "Hello?"

"Prince Philippe," I heard a scratchy voice rasp over the recorder. "It certainly is an honor to be talking to such a…strong, and handsome political figure."

His tone was condescending and patronizing. It made me sick.

"What do you want?" Philippe demanded.

There was a short pause. "I don't like that tone, Your Majesty," He said in a soft, dangerous voice. "So I suggest…" There was a rustling noise in the background and sharp, loud cry of pain. I jolted, realizing that that was Mia. "…that you treat my demands with respect. Didn't pay off when you ignored the first ones, did it?"

I watched as Philippe's grip on his cell phone tightened. "What do you want?" He asked, softer this time.

"It was in the letter, wasn't it? I want seven million dollars in small, unmarked bills. To be dropped off with one of your agents, unless you want to be involved. In that case, if you do, I suggest you wear a bullet proof vest."

He blanched as switched the phone to his other ear. "Where?"

"In the alley between the Rosas Apartments and Joe's Deli on forty-seventh tonight at one o'clock eastern standard time. And, by the way, Your Majesty…" He paused for a little while.

"Yes?"

"Tell the FBI agents listening in on this phone call that whoever is bringing the money better arrive alone. Princess Mia's too young to die. Don't you think?" And with that he hung up.

Ms. Thermopolis looked at Deputy Maloney in horror. "What are you going to do?"

"We're going to follow whoever's going to drop off the money."

"You can't do that! He might harm my baby!"

"Ms. Thermopolis, I assure you, we know what we're doing—"

"YOU CAN'T SEND AGENTS AFTER HER, HE'LL KILL HER!"

"Ms. Thermopolis, Mia will be fine, I need you to calm down—"

"SOMEONE JUST KIDNAPPED MY DAUGHTER AND YOU'RE TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN?"

"Ms. Thermopolis!" I yelled. "I'll drop the money."

She glared at me coldly. "That's okay, Michael, I think you've done enough for one day."

That stung. "Please, let me make this up to you. I promise you, she won't be harmed."

"Actually, Helen, he is the best person to send." Philippe said gently. "He's undergone lots of training and emergency simulations. He knows what to do."

She looked me up and down. I knew that I had lost her trust, and what's more, I knew I deserved it. I took a deep breath and said in a voice quivering from emotion, "I know that I've lost your trust. I know that it was my fault that Mia was kidnapped. But we can't keep thinking about how we could have prevented it. Right now, all our time and energy needs to be spent on plans of getting Mia back, and that's what I'm going to do. Let me make the drop, Ms. Thermopolis. If this guy brings her with him, I'll make sure she gets back safely."

Fresh tears welled in her eyes and she nodded. "Just please, don't hurt her, alright?"

I nodded. After receiving wishes of good luck and instructions from Deputy Maloney, Philippe and I made a trip to the bank.

* * *

"Guess what Princess? We're going on a field trip!" He said with a twisted smile. He untied the rope around my torso. "And if you're a good girl, then I might buy you an ice cream cone on the way home."

My eye had already swollen four times its size so I could barely see. He roughly lifted me out of my chair and dragged me out of the room. We were about to walk out the door, when he stopped. "Wait." He went into the kitchen area of the small room and brought out a syringe. "Sorry, Princess. Can't risk you recognizing your surroundings."

* * *

I stood next to the light post with ten suitcases surrounding me. I shivered as I pulled the black trench coat I was wearing closer around me. I looked up and down the street waiting for anyone or anything.

After waiting for ten minutes, the same black SUV stopped a few yards away. A tall, burly man with bushy brows and ape-like arms got out of the car and locked it. He strode over nonchalantly and leaned against the lamppost. "Got the money?" He asked in a raspy voice.

I nodded and gestured to the suitcases.

He nodded back and jerked his thumb towards his car. "Help me load 'em."

I grabbed two as he unlocked the trunk of his car and stuck them in there. When they were all in, he gave me an envelope and said, "Give this to Prince Philippe. Tell him if he wants to see Princess Mia alive, he'd better do as it says."

"Where is she?" I blurted out.

He gave me a malicious smile and opened the passenger side door. Inside was an unconscious Mia with nasty cuts and bruises and a black eye.

It felt like my stomach had been drenched in ice cold water. Before I had a chance to lunge at the door, it was quickly shut. "Ain't looking too good now, is she?" He cackled.

Trying desperately to restrain myself from launching myself at him, I angrily replied, "Didn't your mother ever tell you that hitting girls is bad?"

His smile widened and he replied, "Remember, make sure Prince Philippe does what that note says. If he does not, I'll know. And the consequences won't be pretty." And he got into his car and drove off.

I called the limo back and when I was safely inside, I called the Plaza. "He's got it."

"Good," Maloney replied. "Won't be long now."

**A/N- Wow...this chapter is waaay different than the others. **

**I know what some of you are thinking: why didn't Michael just jump the guy? He could have taken him! That will be explained next chapter.**

**Please review!**


	9. Poison

**A/N- Happy Fourth everybody! To celebrate this country's birthday, I decided to give ya'll another chapter. And you guys are way too smart for your own good. Either that or you watch too many cop shows like me. Starts with Michael's POV and switches once.**

**Chapter 9**

Hans drove me back to the Plaza as fast as legally possible. When I burst through the door, everyone was crowded around Laurel's laptop. "Heading east," She reported.

"It's still moving?" I asked as I approached the group.

"Yes. Approximately thirty minutes now."

I looked at the digital map on the computer and watched the little red dot maneuver its way on the streets. Then a picture of Mia beaten and bloody popped in my mind and I shivered.

"What's wrong, Michael?" Ms. Thermopolis asked.

"I saw Mia," I said quietly.

"You saw my baby?" She asked quietly. Now I had the ears of everyone in the room.

"Yeah."

"How was she."

I hesitated. How can I explain this to her mother? "She…"

"Yes?"

"She…didn't look too good," My voice cracked. "She didn't look too good at all."

I didn't need to say anything else. Everyone got it.

The room was uncomfortably quiet, as unspoken speculations of Mia's current condition ran through the minds of everyone who was close to her. The severity of the situation had finally reached even Clarisse, who was sitting in a chair with a grim expression, refusing to talk to anyone.

Four hours passed in silence. I couldn't sit still anymore and I went back to my bad habit of pacing. Finally, there was a soft, "Wait…" from Laurel as she brought her face closer to the laptop screen. "He's finally stopped moving."

"Where?" Maloney asked, pulling out a piece of paper.

"Hold on," She said as she typed something. "He's in Stanford, Connecticut. 1202 Lanbar Street."

"Alright," He said. "We'll take the helicopter."

"I'm going with you!" Ms. Thermopolis cried.

"NO," Half the room replied.

Suddenly the phone rang. Immediately the FBI agents got into place as Maloney slipped on his headphones. Philippe picked up the phone and said tentatively, "Hello?"

"You know what's really funny about tracking devices, Your Highness?" The same raspy voice from before asked softly. "They blink bright red."

I heard Philippe gulp. "What?"

"I knew you'd try to pull a pathetic trick like that on me," He said. "So I pulled a little trick of my own. You've been monitoring an eighteen-wheeler for the past four hours."

"Goddamn it," I heard Maloney whisper angrily. Laurel looked at her computer sadly and turned the tracking device off remotely with her computer.

"I'll always be one step ahead of you," He whispered tauntingly. "Did you read the note?"

"What note?"

"The note that was given to the messenger," The voice said angrily. A small wail came from the background. "Tough guy should have given it to you."

I mentally smacked my head as I pulled out the closed envelope from my trench coat pocket and handed it to him. "Yeah, I got the note."

"Do what it says." And with a click he was gone.

Philippe ripped open the envelope and unfolded the letter inside. "It's a speech." He said quietly. "It's the apology that I have to make to the Monacoan government." He skipped the next page and read the footnote at the bottom. "'Every word must be said exactly as it was written.'"

Clarisse shocked everyone by getting up and reading the letter carefully. After several minutes she looked up and said in a sharp voice, "You will not under any circumstances say this in public."

"But Clarisse! My daughter is in danger!" Ms. Thermopolis cried out.

"Nevertheless, Philippe has a duty to his country. He cannot disgrace it by saying that the Monacoan government is superior to Genovia, it would cause public outrage!"

"I can't believe you!" Ms. Thermopolis screeched. "You care more about that stupid principality than you do for your own granddaughter!"

"Don't you EVER accuse me of not caring for Mia!" Clarisse roared. "I care for that girl more than you know!"

"You sure have a funny way of showing it."

"SHUT UP!"

We all glanced in shock at the currently red dowager princess. She had never uttered those two words in her life, insisting that it was a vulgar phrase, only exchanged among commoners and lesser people of society.

She took a deep breath and said in a shaky voice, "I love Mia. She is my only granddaughter. I am harsh because she is the only one left to the throne of Genovia.

"But when someone gets in the way of the two things that I love the most and makes me decide between them, what choice do I have? I will always choose Genovia. Genovia gave me a home, she gave me a life, a love, and hope. Who can I choose? One person whom I love, or fifty thousand people I love?"

I watched Clarisse closely. The words seemed to pour out of her heart instead of her head. The corners of her tattooed eyes were glistening with unshed tears, and her mouth was quivering with emotion.

The room sat in a heavy silence. Then Ms. Thermopolis asked huskily, "What will we do, then?"

"Hold a small press conference," Laurel said quietly. "A very small press conference. This guy said you had to make it public. He never said how public."

Suddenly, a thought came to my mind. "My sister has a cable access show in London. Not many people watch it, maximum twelve people, including her stalker."

Maloney nodded. "Invite some of the other smaller news shows. News shows that people don't watch."

We all turned to Clarisse to see if she approved. She thought carefully for a few minutes, then nodded slowly.

Philippe turned to Laurel. "Can you send an e-mail to some of the smaller shows and tell them that there's a press conference tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" She asked as her eyed widened.

"Yes. That way there's less time to let the news leak out."

* * *

I woke up only to find myself bound to the same chair I was bound to earlier. It seemed like every part of my body seemed to ache, right down to my toes. I looked up, only able to see out of my right eye. "Morning princess," That voice I had grown to fear whispered. "Did you sleep well?" 

I didn't say anything. I just looked down.

"Oh, by the way, princess. I would like for you to see this."

He turned on the television and brought it closer to me. Sitting in the middle of a long table was my father and on his left was Grandmère. Dad was looking intently at a piece of paper and brought the microphone closer to his face. "I'm glad that you were able to make it here today. Dowager Princess Clarisse Renaldo and I have an announcement to make."

He cleared his throat and looked at the microphone. "I wish to apologize for the terrible slander that the Monacoan royal family has suffered at the hands of our own. In truth," (by now, father's teeth were clenched, as if this were torturous pain) "we were envious of their obviously superior government. And their princess' obvious beauty, so much more compared to my—"

That's when he lost it. "I'm NOT SAYING THIS!" He screamed into the camera. "You, Civilian, if you're watching this, you BETTER AS HELL LEAVE MY DAUGHTER ALONE! I WILL FIND YOU AND WHEN I DO, I WILL KILL YOU!"

My captor switched off the TV angrily and turned to me. "We can't have this, can we?" He asked dangerously as he pulled out a syringe.

_

* * *

Dear Prince Philippe, _

_I must say, that wasn't the cleverest move you've pulled. If you can't apologize to the Monacoan government, I know you can't denounce your daughter's claim to the Genovian throne. So your daughter's going to run into some…misfortune._

_However, you might be able to save her. I injected her with a delayed reaction poison. In other words, it takes three days to for the poison to fully spread in the bloodstream and stop her heart. I'm giving you three days to find her._

_First clue: it's not poison, but it is to her. Largest institution of its kind._

_Remember…three days._

_Yours truly,  
The Civilian_

**A/N- AAAAHH! SHORTNESS! I'm sorry I couldn't make it any longer, but I just knew when I wrote it that this was the place to stop. I can't promise that the next chapter is gonna be longer, but the next few chapters are going to be all Michael's POV. Seeing as Mia's poisoned...she can't exactly give her version of events or anything.**

**Please review! Mia might die if you don't.**


	10. It's Not Diamonds

**Chapter 10**

It took all the self-restraint I had not to go tearing about the suite.

After reading the letter, Ms. Thermopolis burst into tears. "Three days!" She cried. "My baby's going to die in three days!"

"She's not going to die, Helen," Philippe shot irritably. "We'll find her."

We stared in silence for a little while until Laurel spoke up. "'It's not poison, but it is to her'? What kind of clue is that?"

Maloney looked at Philippe and Helen. "Is she deathly allergic to anything? Something that might be fatal?"

They both shook their heads. "No. She's healthy as a horse." Philippe said.

"Yeah, except for the fact that she's poisoned," Ms. Thermopolis shot.

"Helen, if you're not going to be rational about this, I must ask that you leave."

She shut her mouth after that.

"The context of the clue suggests that it might possibly be something that she just really dislikes," Laurel murmured as she broke the temporary silence.

"Yeah…but what would it be?" Maloney asked as he stroked his beard thoughtfully.

Suddenly, it clicked in my head. "She's a vegetarian!" I cried.

"Meat," Maloney murmured as he nodded his head in approval. "Good job, kid. 'Largest institution of its kind'…"

"A really big deli?" Laurel suggested.

"Hob's Delicatessen," Helen and Maloney said at the same time.

Everyone in the room gave a smile, each varying in size, at the same time.

"Good work folks. Let's go resuce us a princess."

"Wait," I said. "You don't actually think she'll be there, do you?"

"Why not?" Helen asked frantically.

"Well first off, the letter says 'first clue'. That implies that there are more clues later on. Besides, do you think that this guy is really gonna make it this easy for us?"

"You're right," Maloney said. "Michael, go over to Hob's Deli and see if you can find anything, then report back to us ASAP. I'll give the driver coordinates."

"Got it."

Hans and I grabbed a coat and ran out the door.

During the limo ride, my mind kept drifting. Pictures of the bloody and battered Mia floated in front of my inner eye often. I couldn't help it, it was a haunting sight.

I stared out the window absent-mindedly. Mia…was she alright? Was she being fed? Was the poison working quickly? What if we didn't make it in time? What if she died and I never got the chance to tell her that I liked her?

To many what ifs were plaguing my mind. I needed to stop thinking about what might happen and focus on what I wanted to get done and why.

It wasn't fair to her. She didn't get to live her life. She was only fourteen! And she wasn't even paying for sins that she herself had committed; she was paying for being born. The injustice of the whole situation made my blood boil. She was a sweet girl; she deserved better than this.

As the limo pulled into the deli, I ran inside with one hand hovering over the gun at my side.

Everyone stared at me like I had just busted the loony bin. After a few minutes, they went back about their business, and I discreetly walked to the attendant behind the counter.

He was shaking nervously as he whispered, "Are you the guy he said they would send?"

"Who would send?"

"Prince Philippe."

"Yeah."

He pulled an envelope from the register and handed it to me. "He told me to give this to you."

"Wait, who told you?"

"I'm not supposed to tell."

"Can you tell me what he looked like?"

He shook his head slowly.

I didn't push it. By the look on his face, he wasn't going to tell, he was way too scared.

I eyed him carefully as I pocketed the envelope. "What's you're name?"

"Christopher James Hob."

"Who else works here?"

"My sister, Rachel Angela Hob."

I nodded as I turned around to leave. "Thank you."

"You're not going to kill me, are you?" He asked loudly. Fortunately, this was New York and no one found this strange.

I turned back around and raised my eyebrows. "Why would I?"

"That guy said you would."

"Not likely."

When I got back to the Plaza, I gave the two names to Laurel. "Could you do a background search on them?"

She nodded.

I gave the envelope to Maloney and we crowded around him.

_Next clue: dogs are man's best friends._

I stared at that clue for several moments, completely lost.

Maloney turned to Helen and asked, "What the hell's this supposed to mean?"

She stared intently at the slip of paper. "Mia and I are both feminists…"

We disregarded this. Just a worried mother's old blather.

"'Dogs are man's best friends'…" Philippe repeated.

We all sat there silently for at least a half hour while Maloney barked at Laurel to search every conceivable internet search engine for anything that might help. Then suddenly, Ms. Thermopolis cried out, "Fat Louie! He must be referring to Fat Louie!"

Philippe raised his eyebrows. "How do you figure that?"

"Opposite of man is woman, right? Opposite of dog is cat. Fat Louie used to be Mia's best friend."

We all nodded in sudden realization. But then Maloney paused. "What's he gonna do with the cat, then?"

"Only one way to find out," I said as I called Hans and grabbed my coat.

"Wait!" Helen called out as she grabbed her own coat. "I'm coming with you! I know the loft better than you do anyway."

I nodded. "Let's go."

The first part of the limo ride was silent. Then I spoke up. "Ms. Thermopolis, I just wanna say, that I'm really, really sorry about losing your daughter like that. My eyes should have been on her the whole time, I should have been watching her, I should have—"

"Michael," She cut me off. "It's okay. I forgive you." She sighed as she rubbed her tired eyes in an attempt to soothe her headache away. "I know that I was snappish at you in the beginning, but you have to understand, Mia's my baby girl. I love her more than anything in the world, and if anything happened to her…" She trailed off as huge sobs began to rack her body. "I'm sorry, it's just…"

I wasn't really any good at comforting worried mothers, so I gently put my arm around her shoulders and rubbed her back. "It's okay," I said softly. "I promise, I'll get her back."

And I will get her back.

When we arrived at the loft, we found Fat Louie behind the toilet. When he spotted us, he walked to his litter box and next to it was a note.

"It's as if he knew that we were supposed to get this," Helen muttered as she quietly brought him in her arms and pet him.

I opened the letter and eagerly read the words inside.

_Next clue: walter went to see the Show._

What the hell?

**A/N- I feel really bad about how long it took me to update this. I was helping a friend with her stuff and not to mention I've been slightly sleep deprived...so yeah. I feel even worse because this weekend Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince is coming out this Saturday and I'm gonna be reading that and I'm going on vacation next week. So I wanted to at least have a chapter of this and Most Eligible Bachelorette before all that. Count on an update for that story on Thrusday.**

**The clues took a while. It was hard trying to come up with them. Tell me what yout think that last one is. You might be right.**

**Reviews are _my_ best friend. **


	11. Wait, What Did She Say?

**A/N- These chapters just keep getting shorter and shorter! AUGH! I'm sorry, guys.**

**Chapter 11**

"'Walter went to see the show'?" Philippe repeated with a puzzled expression on his face.

I stared at the piece of paper as my mind drifted in and out. "His grammar is messed up," Laurel noted.

"What?" Maloney asked.

"Well, look at it. Walter's a name, right? But he doesn't capitalize it. He does, however, capitalize show."

Then, it clicked. "Maybe Walter's not the name. Show is…" I said.

"Then why would he put a Walter in it?" Ms. Thermopolis asked.

"Because…because that's not the whole name. The whole name is…Showalter."

A strange silence followed my statement. Then Laurel spoke up. "That's great. Why is this significant?"

"Kenny Showalter is one of Mia's friends," I said as I grabbed my jacket. "He's always flirting with her."

"Wait, is he The Civilian?" Ms. Thermopolis asked hurriedly.

I snorted. "He doesn't have the mental capacity at all. I just think he has the next clue."

"How would some kid named Kenny have the next clue?" Philippe asked skeptically. "I mean, he's just some random high school student."

"Why would some owner of a deli have a clue? This guy works in random ways. That's why he's been able to get away every time."

Before any of them could say another word, I was out the door with Hans in tow. We didn't have time to argue! Mia's life was hanging over our heads, and, oh yeah, the hourglass was tipped over too!

When we had gotten to his apartment, I urgently knocked on the door. The same skinny little Kenny looked up at me, his face paler than usual. "Are you that guy he said he would send?"

I nodded slowly.

He gave me a note and slammed the door quickly in my face. Without another thought, I ripped open the envelope.

_Last clue, last demand._

I nearly tore my hair out in frustration. Why can't he just give it to us straight? Why does he have to pretend to be all enigmatic?

When I was back at the Plaza, I threw the note down in anger. "'Last clue, last demand.' That's all it says."

Prince Philippe shared my frustration. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"What, does it look like I know?" I retorted. "He doesn't even say what the last freaking demand is!"

"Maybe he already did," Laurel said as she started searching the tabletop that was stacked high with various sheets of paper. "That letter he mailed before he kidnapped Mia. Maybe he's referring to the last demand that he had given to us."

"All it says is to denounce Mia's claim to the throne." Ms. Thermopolis said.

"Yeah, at the ball."

Suddenly, the same thought came to us all at the same time. "Oh no…" Philippe murmured.

"The ball is in two days." Clarisse and I said simultaneously.

"The same day that Mia will die if we don't get to her on time?" Maloney asked.

I nodded. "But I don't get it. What does he want? Does he still want us to denounce Mia's claim? Or…"

"Or what?" Ms. Thermopolis asked anxiously.

"Or maybe he's just telling us to watch out. Maybe he's planning for something to go down during the ball."

It took a few minutes for my words to settle in. Then, Maloney cleared his throat and broke the awkward silence. "Alright people, if this guy really is planning something for this ball, we have to be ready. Here's what we're gonna do…"

* * *

The morning before the ball, I had already woken up at six o'clock that morning, going over the last minute plans with Maloney when the phone rang. 

Philippe answered it and the raspy voice over the phone said, "Her Highness has asked to make one last call."

His grip on thereciever tightened. "Put her on the phone," He demanded softly.

"Oh, she doesn't want to talk to you," the man sneered. "She wants to talk to her bodyguard."

My heart starting pounding at incredibly fast speeds. I breathed in deeply and took the phone from Philippe. A slight shuffling was heard in the background and after a few more minutes, a softer, more tired voice murmured, "Hello?"

I gulped. "Mia?"

"Michael…" She whispered.

A lump rose in my throat. Hearing her in so much pain was just as bad as seeing it. "Mia, don't worry, you'll be alright. I promise, we'll get you."

"Michael, I trust you. Remember?"

I nodded, even though she couldn't see me. My throat seemed to close up due to the powerful emotion rising in my chest.

"I just wanted to say this, in case I really don't make it out." She took a deep breath, which must have been hard for her because I heard her shiver. "Michael, the first time I saw you, I liked you. A lot. And then, we started to get to talking and…and somewhere in the middle of allof it,I fell in love with you."

My eyes started to water. "No, Mia, don't say that. I swear, you'll make it out, I promise—"

"Time's out, lover boy." The raspy voice cut me off and with a distinct click, he hung up.

I put the phone down, still staring at it in shock, not noticing everyone's slightly amused glances. Even in my state of disbelief, the hope started to rise in my chest. She loved me…and she trusted me.

I had to save her…I had to get her out of there.

I had to tell her that I loved her too.

**A/N- I am impressed. constantlyreading guessed it right! I was so happy.**

**Okay, um...next chapter will have a little of Mia's POV, so wait for that. I think that the ball will possibly take two chapters, I don't know, it looks to be that way right now.**

**As for when the next chapter is going to be up, I don't know about that either. I'm leaving for L.A. on Thursday, so I might find some time to write either for this story or Most Eligible Bachelorette.**

**I finished Harry Potter last night and decided to write because I was feeling sad and depressed. She killed my favorite character! And the only thing that can cheer me up are loads and loads and loads of reviews.**


	12. A SMASHING Success Pt 1

**A/N- ACK! I'm sooooo sorry you guys, I know this took forever and I know this is really short, but please, bear with me.**

**Chapter 12**

Tonight was the night.

Clarisse was supposed to announce the world that Princess Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo was missing. Officially.

I nervously straightened my bowtie as I adjusted my headpiece so it was invisible. Maloney decided that I was to go to the ball, but I could not look to conspicuously like a security officer. I had to blend it. Undercover.

I smiled sadly at what Mia might say.

Ah! I can't think that. I'm going to save her today. I promised myself that under no circumstances would she fall into harm.

And I always keep my promises.

* * *

"Tsk, tsk," My captor shook his head. "You cannot go to the ball like this."

I was too scared to reply, so I kept my head down.

"You must get ready, your highness." And with that he untied my ropes and helped me stand up. Then he gently led me to the bathroom where a severe looking woman awaited me.

"Victoria will help you get ready. Don't anger her," He warned, "Or she might feel the need to discipline you."

I said nothing.

"Please have her ready in two hours."

"Yes sir." And when the door was closed, she menacingly descended upon me.

* * *

I perused the ballroom floor, absent-mindedly accepting an appetizer here and there, keeping my eyes peeled for any strange happenings.

Laurel whispered in my earpiece to ask a few women to dance, so as not to look suspicious. She wasn't laughing, but I could hear the amusement in her voice. So I politely asked a woman to dance. I cringed at the insipid giggle that she gave and ignored her meaningless prattle while watching a shifty waiter from the corner of my eye.

When the song ended, I bowed quickly and was met approached by Clarisse with an oily looking man at her side. "Michael, I would like you to meet the Monacoan Ambassador to Genovia, Signor Pietro Montessori."

My hand enclosed over his plump, soft fingers. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Signor Montessori."

He smirked. "Likewise…?"

"Michael."

"Oh yes. Michael. Well unfortunately I cannot stay and chat, I have some business to attend to. I'm sure I will see you later." And with one last mysterious smirk, he glided away.

"Laurel?" I whispered into my earpiece.

"What?"

"Do a background check on Pietro Montessori."

"Sure thing."

Assured the Laurel had it covered, I made my way to the corner of the room and cast a wary eye over the dancers.

* * *

The bath was therapeutic to my sore bones. And despite her stern appearance, Victoria had a gentle hand in styling my hair and placing my makeup. She did her job so perfectly, in fact, that no one would have been able to tell the bruises underneath the layers and layers of cover-up.

After my hair and makeup were done, she pulled out a large golden box and opened it to reveal a lovely, ivory colored dress with a dark gold ribbon sewn into the princess waistline and small crystals on the skirt. It had delicate off the shoulder sleeves and a neckline edged with the same dark gold ribbon around the waist.

"Isn't it beautiful, your highness?" Victoria said with the same raspy voice as my captor.

I nodded slowly.

"And," She added as she turned the dress around and gestured to the faint, blinking red light in the folds of chiffon. "It was made especially for you."

* * *

Right before Clarisse was about to make her announcement, Laurel came running into the ballroom with several papers clutched in her hands. "Michael!" She yelled in my earpiece.

I nearly jumped when I turned around and saw her waving frantically at me. "What?" I asked as she handed me the papers.

"Pietro Montessori isn't his real name," She said breathlessly. "His real name is Federico Montebello, and he's been arrested on numerous occasions for possession of explosives and illegal firearms. He also comes from a family of well known crime lords, who have been known to be extremely patriotic for their homeland."

"Monaco," We said in unison.

"That's not all," She said. "He changed his name after the judge let him off on parole and now he's acting as the Monacoan Ambassador to Genovia. For some time now, word on the street is that his new goal is to get back at Queen Clarisse."

I nodded. "Great work Laurel. Tell Maloney, I'll go tell Philippe."

I found him behind Clarisse, ready to make a public address. "Your Highness," I hissed as I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him aside. "We have a lead."

"Who?" He asked.

"Pietro Montessori."

He glanced around the ballroom floor and nodded. "Alright."

At that moment, Clarisse walked up onto the stage and positioned herself in front of the podium. "Good evening to all," She said in a clear, ringing voice.

"As you all know, tonight was a special night. I was supposed to introduce to you all the heir to the Genovian throne, my granddaughter, Princess Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo.

"Unfortunately, she is not here with us today."

I heard a collective gasp wave across the crowd, and immediately the fury of whispered rumors rose up.

"Yes, she is not here with us today, because she has been…"

She never finished that sentence. Because at that moment, the crowd parted and slowly walking down the middle of the crowd and up to the stage was Mia.

At that moment, I forgot all protocol and rushed off the stage to take her up in my arms. "Mia!" I cried as I held her closely to me. I felt her arms wrap around my shoulders as tightly as she could. And before my mind could register what I was thinking, I kissed her.

* * *

He took my breath away.Michael, my bodyguard, my confidant, my friend… 

My love.

He kissed me for all the world to see, right in the middle of that ballroom.

And I kissed him back with all the strength that I had left.

And after a few more moments, reality tore my dream apart. "Michael," I whispered as I pulled away, "You have to get everyone out of here now."

The urgency in my voice concerned him. "Why?"

"Because if you don't, everyone will die."

**A/N- I needed a cliff hanger right here. I think the ball might be two more chapters. Might be. It will definitely be at least one more, that's for sure.**

**I'm glad ya'll liked the clues! It took me forever to come up with them.**

**I start school this Thursday, so I might have a chapter up on Friday, to celebrate back to school.**

**And I know it took forever for me to update, I'm so mean to you guys, I'm soooo sorry, but a lot of stuff has been going on, a lot of drama, and I couldn't really find the time to write.**

**Well, thank you again for bearing with meand be sure to review!**


	13. A SMASHING Success Pt 2

**A/N- Sorry! I know that I was supposed to have this out YESTERDAY, but school's a bitch. So here's the next chapter.**

**Chapter 13**

I was losing strength rapidly. I knew the poison was spreading through my bloodstream and I personally didn't have much time left.

But neither did anyone else.

"There is a bomb on the dress that I'm wearing. You have to evacuate everyone right now!"

"No. We'll just take the dress off—"

"They've already thought about that! The bomb is heat activated. It started the countdown the moment it touched my skin. If you take it off, it'll detonate immediately."

I saw the color drain out of Michael's face. "How much time left before it goes?"

"Five minutes."

He swallowed hard, but nodded. "Alright then."

* * *

Knowing what I had to do, I called to and Maloney. "Quickly, I need you to evacuate everybody right now. 

"Why?"

"There's a bomb on Mia's dress set to go off in five minutes."

I didn't need to say anything else. Immediately, Maloney got up on the stage and cleared his throat authoritatively. "Excuse me ladies and gentlemen."

"Laurel!" I called.

She came over with a puzzled look on her face.

"Philippe is looking for Montebello right now. Go help him."

She nodded. "I'm on it."

Maloney's speech continued to ring in my ears. "…many of you may be confused as to the events that have unfolded tonight."

I turned to Mia and asked, "Where's the bomb?"

She turned around and I spotted the faint blinking red light underneath the layers of soft ivory satin. I knelt down and pulled out a tool kit that I always carried with me.

"…unfortunately, we cannot disclose all of our information to you tonight, seeing as how most of us are quite confused ourselves. However, we must ask you to evacuate this building immediately."

"How big is it, do you think?" I asked her.

"I don't know. I can't feel it."

It must have been small then. "Hold on." I said as I tore off the layers of cloth that were in my way.

"…for you own safety, I ask you to calmly head towards the exits in an orderly fashion and stay a safe distance away from this building."

I finally found a small black object with thousands of complicated wires coming out of it latched onto to a thin sheet of cloth. "I found it," I told her.

The confused, and slightly pissed off, multitudes of glittery people pushed past me on their way to the exits.

After examining the bomb carefully for a few moments, my heart sank. "This is one of the most complicated bombs I've ever seen."

"I trust you."

It never ceases to amaze how much those words can inspire me.

Immediately, my mind somehow cleared when I realized I had less than a minute to turn this thing off.

Which wire to cut…

Oh god, I didn't know which wire to cut!

I could almost hear the time ticking away as the blinking red light started to flash brighter and faster.

Goddamn it, I know this! I passed this course with flying colors, I swear! I came up with a riddle to help me remember this!

Then I remembered Mia.

"Roses are red…" I murmured as I looked at the red wire.

I clipped the green wire.

And immediately, the blinking stopped.

* * *

I hazily heard Michael's triumphant voice announce, "Yes!" 

I nodded slowly. "Thank you…"

And the next thing I know, my knees gave in.

* * *

"Mia! MIA!" I screamed. 

Then I remembered.

Oh god, the poison!

I checked my watch. The kidnapper poisoned her at midnight.

I had forty-five minutes.

I gathered Mia in my arms, but I heard the clean click-clacking of wooden heels on the polished tile floor. "So, you have managed to stop the explosion," A voice sneered at me from behind.

I gently set Mia down and stood up. Behind me was Pietro Montessori, or actually, Federico Montebello. "But you cannot administer to her the antidote in time. She will die."

The anger and hate began to boil up in my veins. He had done this to her. And he was going to pay.

"I mean, hell, you don't even know what or where the antidote is!"

At that, I launched myself at him and threw him to the ground, pressing his face against the floor. "Where is it?"

"Like I'll ever tell you," He huffed.

"WHERE IS IT?"

He threw me off of him and pulled out a gun. "I wouldn't try an attack like that again, Signor Moscovitz."

I didn't care how he knew my name. All I cared about was the time ticking slowly on Mia's life. "Why do you want to kill her?"

"I want to make the Dowager Princess suffer," He said with a gleam of malice in his eye. "I want to make her feel the pain that we Monacoans have endured because of her!"

"Then leave Mia out of this!"

He gave me a strange look, then laughed. "I should have known. You are the one that she loves, aren't you?"

I refused to say anything.

"Oh. Well perhaps you could use a lesson in suffering as well."

Quick as a flash, I pulled out my gun and three shots were fired in rapid succession.

Only two of them were mine.

As soon as Montebello was down, I remembered I still had my earpiece. "Laurel?"

"Michael! I can't find Montebello! We've been looking everywhere!"

I tried to stem the flow of blood that was gushing profusely from the wound in my shoulder. "He's here in the ballroom. I shot him a couple of times, he might be dead."

"We're on it."

"I'm taking Mia to the hospital."

I checked my watch. Thirty minutes.

Ignoring my screaming shoulder joint, I lifted Miaover my good shoulder andran to the nearest taxi.

**A/N- This story's coming to a close. Two chapters,at most.**

**I alsohave another story that I want to put up, so look for that soon.**

**Please review.**


	14. My Guardian Angel

**A/N-Please don't kill me.**

**Chapter 14**

I remember a bright white light. And a soothing voice drifting in and out of my numb mind calling out, "Hold on, Mia. Hold on."

"Mia?"

I slowly opened my eyes and found my father holding onto my hand. "Mia? Are you alright?"

I slowly sat up. "What happened?"

"The ball was…well it was ruined to say the least."

I chuckled softly. "Grandmère must be thrilled."

He laughed as well. "I think she'll be happier to know that you're alright."

I looked around my sterile hospital room that was covered with flowers and well wishes and balloons. "Who are all these from?"

"The guests at the ball. They were worried for you."

Suddenly I remembered the last few moments of the ball that I had remained conscious for. "Where's Michael?"

Dad looked down, refusing to look me in the eye.

"Dad?"

Hesitantly, he replied, "He was shot before leaving the ballroom. By the time he got to the hospital, he lost too much blood. He…he died."

I felt like I had been rammed in the gut with a ton of bricks. Michael? Michael died? That's impossible! Michael can't die! "No, he's not dead!"

"Mia—"

"HE'S NOT DEAD! YOU'RE LYING!"

"Mia—"

"WHERE'S MICHAEL? WHERE IS HE? HE'S NOT DEAD!"

"Mia, stop it! He died, there's nothing you can do!"

That's when the tears came. Tear after tear came, and soon, they came in torrents. They left trails on my face and after a few hours, the tears felt like acid, burning into my skin.

* * *

"Today we remember not only one of the strongest and most courageous men in our ranks, but also a son, a bodyguard, and a friend…"

The priest's voice trailed off as I walked away. I couldn't stand to be around the hordes of weeping women, only to be reminded that I was one of the few young ladies that his own life had touched.

I walked to the edge of the cliff that the cemetery had been built on. It overlooked the glittering cerulean ocean and the scenic cliffs.

He died for me. He died to save me.

The salty tears came trailing down my face once again. But once they left my face, the fell to join the larger body of water below.

I watched the foamy surf wash against the rocky shore. Had this ocean been built on tears? Had other lovesick young girls come to this cliff to cry over the soldiers they had lost? Had widows wept their own tears into this ocean?

I looked out into the sea of sorrows. "I love you, Michael," I whispered and immediately afterwards, felt the wind envelope around me.

Suddenly, I realized that Michael was not lost. He was still here, and I would always be surrounded in his love. And while I couldn't touch him, couldn't hold him, or couldn't kiss him, I would always have his memory in my heart.

And while he couldn't physically protect me, he would always be watching over me.

My guardian angel.

I let one last tear drop into the ocean and walked away.

**A/N-Okay, first things first:**

**I'm soo sorry that I didn't update sooner. School's...well, school is school and it's difficult. I hate it actually. So please forgive me.**

**Second of all, please do not flame me for this ending. I had actually planned for this to happen, and I am not going to change it. This is it, this is the ending, that's all there is to it.**

**Third of all, while this is a sad ending and certainly not what some of you were expecting, rest assured that the other two Princess Diary stories are happy endings.**

**Fourth of all, thank you for sticking with this story and my flaky updating habits. It's tough, I know, especially when you're impatient. Thank you so much for thinking this story had any potential to begin with.**

**And while this story might have reached it's end I still appreciate loads and loads of reviews.**


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